Wicked Wind...

I awoke this morning
To the cries of such a mighty, wicked wind
Blowing unabated - with such fury,
While all I really wanted was to just lie there
Comfortably, whimsically, lazily,
Dreamily imagining you...

...touching me,
There.
...wishing that you might some day take me into
your sweet, loving care.

The wind screamed, the sun hid its frightened face
And my life for a moment there, seemed to be frozen
Between the grips of one of Mother Nature's whims,
And I could only ask myself this question -
Might she really love me or just think that she does;
Or might she, really be longing for him...

...to touch her,
There?
...for want to believe in his solemn pledge
to love her and treat her oh so very fair?

That wicked wind never told me anything,
I suppose, it refused to betray your trust,
I suppose too - it is a sheppard of your soul
As strange as this may seem;
I suppose too - that I'll never know for sure
Until you finally tell me - that your love is only for me.

Touch me,
There.
...in my heart, my soul, my faith, my everything.

 

Copyright © 1999 Hans Raffelt, All Rights Reserved.

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