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poetryofadove
The Hope


She was able to hear His voice,
And her heart started to rejoice;
He ran across valleys and hills,
She felt the love that He instills.
          
Like a young stag sprinting in a race,
She could see of His lovely face;
He was not fatigued or tired,
Rather He had been inspired.
          
She looked and smiled as He said,
Time that the two of us are wed;
My beautiful one, come with me,
The wonderful things we can see.
          
Time for the songbird to arrive,
Being eternally alive;
Morning doves cooing on the land,
As we walk feel warmth from the sand.
          
The figs are ripe and grapevines bloom,
The light has chased away the gloom;
As they walk His voice sounds so sweet,
For as she hears her feels the heat.
          
But the foxes just run wild,
Just like an immature child;
They will ruin the lovely vine,
This will be for their wedding wine.
          
So the young stag chased them away,
All the foxes that went astray;
As the day brought a cooling breeze,
That whispered the love through the trees.
          
So as the daytime shadows flee,
The maiden voiced a gentle plea;
Be like an elk or a young hart,
Turn away and quickly depart.


Copyright © 2011 Richard Newton Sherrer







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