I refuse to believe that love is fleeting
only a shadow made of lust of night
My spirit has built a castle for love
and her rooms are many to fill
each a day in my life for her
and when she comes I have room
and a land so green and grand
full of brooks and trees and life
and flower beds and a vast sky
where she is I do not know yet
but I await her and heavenly love
she will bring and I shall give back —
an ounce of her is a pound of me
and my hand is a river against
her breast that she shall feel
the life of golden years through time
a water to rock and pebbles
and pebbles to grains and sand
and stream shall carry us beyond
to the other life above heaven …
:: 03-30-2014 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 