Sunday, June 17, 2007
Two hearts intertwined...
Different views...
Different dreams...
Different needs...
Different wants...
Bound by a fragile string called LOVE...
Union as willed by GOD...
A journey in life...
May be pounded by the forces of nature...
May be struck by the fiercest lightning...
Yet two hearts bound by a delicate twine...
STRONG enough...
To stand the test of time.
I wait for you
anxious to see your face.
I stand and watch,
looking for the first sign of your arrival.
I finally see you,
I take a second look to make sure you're really there. My pulse races and I crack a smile,
this is what I've been waiting for.
You begin to approach,
you say, "Sorry, I'm late.
" I say, "No problem." But I think to myself,
'I'd have waited forever.'
The sweet, rustic smell of the rain, Fills my nose, my head, and my brain. The springtime showers soak my dress, and toes tingle with a grassy caress. The beauty of this day is lost to me, As the deaf man hears not the melody. For all Nature's wonders seem so dim, When I am here, standing next to him.
Love feels no burden,
thinks nothing of trouble,
attempts what is above its strength,
pleads no excuse of impossibility...
It is therefore able to undertake all things,
and it completes many things,
and warrants them to take effect,
where he who does not love would faint and lie down.
Love is watchful and sleeping, slumbereth not.
Though weary, it is not tired;
though pressed, it is not straitened;
though alarmed, it is not confounded...
thinks nothing of trouble,
attempts what is above its strength,
pleads no excuse of impossibility...
It is therefore able to undertake all things,
and it completes many things,
and warrants them to take effect,
where he who does not love would faint and lie down.
Love is watchful and sleeping, slumbereth not.
Though weary, it is not tired;
though pressed, it is not straitened;
though alarmed, it is not confounded...
If asked why I love her I would say
It’s the sway in her hips,
the thickness in her thighs.
It’s the lust in her lips,
the love in her eyes.
It’s the softness of her skin,
the silk in her hair.
It’s the twist in her walk;
it’s the sweetness in her talk.
It’s the way she loves me
that makes me love her each day.
That is what I would say.
It’s the sway in her hips,
the thickness in her thighs.
It’s the lust in her lips,
the love in her eyes.
It’s the softness of her skin,
the silk in her hair.
It’s the twist in her walk;
it’s the sweetness in her talk.
It’s the way she loves me
that makes me love her each day.
That is what I would say.
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