|
The night I started traveling
Roger Humes
|
|
|
The night
I started traveling
in my mind you came to the door,
suitcase of memories in hand,
to offer me the compass of your heart
as a roadmap to trace the love
that had always existed between us.
The night I started traveling
in my words you came to the window,
lamp of possibilities in hand,
to offer me the vista of your heart
as a ribbon to bookmark the love
that had always existed between us.
The night I started traveling
in my dreams you came to my bed,
cup of passion in hand,
to offer me the passage of your heart
as a comforter to cradle the love
that had always existed between us. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|