By Kiwi
Date: 28 July 2000
my prince
he moves with a kind of grace
that i cannot explain, could never match
every task, every motion, every thought
completed with passion, with life
so few people live with purpose
i marvel at the strength of his heart
he moves me from where he sits
though far from me,
near to my heart
visible in the window of my soul
he sits and he waits for me
patient and willing
open arms, smile parting his lips
and i will go to him
and fall like a wind-blown leaf
into his arms
and there i will remain
until death or a stronger force
removes me
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner