Jassy Melson
10-04-2011, 07:24 PM
She was a traveler and a seeker of love
and each night saw a different bed for her.
A simple saint, a wounded dove
with tears flowing but never in vain,
only for joy or in pain.
And each tear glowing.
Trembling fawn of the forest roads,
humble servant of the battered soul.
Nearer and nearer she moves toward home,
closer than ever before.
Dancing lightly, taking her leave,
she glides from view among the trees,
leaving a message few will hear:
My tears will flow but never in vain,
only in joy or for pain.
She was a traveler and a seeker of truth
with her soul of bark and heart of moss.
And each green thought glowed.
and each night saw a different bed for her.
A simple saint, a wounded dove
with tears flowing but never in vain,
only for joy or in pain.
And each tear glowing.
Trembling fawn of the forest roads,
humble servant of the battered soul.
Nearer and nearer she moves toward home,
closer than ever before.
Dancing lightly, taking her leave,
she glides from view among the trees,
leaving a message few will hear:
My tears will flow but never in vain,
only in joy or for pain.
She was a traveler and a seeker of truth
with her soul of bark and heart of moss.
And each green thought glowed.