My Honey

 The music we make is magic Lord.

As the sound of the guitar.

Hit every right chord.

The beat of the drum.

The valley of the harp.

The melodious song. 

 Of


the angels hum.


The touch of your hand.

The whisper of your voice.

The soft gentle breeze. 

 As it caresses with ease.


The Lamb that was slain.

And the Blood that was shed.

Poured out deep love to me.

So I could be made free.


The sweet kiss of comfort.

And the linen that was laid.

To clothe me with luster.

As the bride with the vail.


Come to me.

Oh love of mine.

Hold my hand as we sit and dine.

Into your presence.

I vow now to thee.

Faithful and true.

My honey.

That is YOU.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Remember

Like A Babbling Fool

Behold, Thou Art Fair