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A Crooked Stile

Press me down to common ground

I’ll not fear or protest;

carry me to highest heights

give me wings to fly;

hold my hand against the tempest

as I cling to my hearts mast,

I'll not be blown away.

Lift my face to sunny sun

twinkle in my eye;

through it all

my heart rests

assured you have given all your love;

and that is enough

for any man;

especially this one

whom you rescued

from the lost and found

with just a gentle smile;

giving me against all odds

your whole and complete trust;

and that is enough for any man.

Crippled from bumpy roads

and crooked stiles

I learned to walk again;

you took no credit then or now

for the miracle that it was;

but reflected as I was in your eyes

I once again to believe in the me there;

and unwavering you never second-guessed

even though I did.

You believed in me

and that is enough for any man.

My soul rebounded and sewed up its jagged wounds

desperate not to let you down

and a second miracle occurred

when it transformed itself

so as to be true in your eyes.

And that is enough love,

my love,
for any man.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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