Friday, July 24, 2009

Poetry - Meant for Me

With bated breath and quivering heart,
I doth wait for thee.
I bare a gift unto thee to impart;
the love I bare is free
I’ll bare my soul ere you depart,
I’ll strive to make you see
That it is heaven that hath made our match
that you were meant for me.

Lea Bristow Copyright © 2000 - 2009

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