The Promise
When two hearts first take flight,
The question is always asked will it last or end as night.
These are my words as an arrow is true,
This, my love is my promise to you.
I promise you my love will grow,
Like a river fed by gentle snow.
As crowded year's rush on by.
My love for you will be, till oceans dry.
Till the last water droplet has turned to steam,
And the sun has cast it's last beam.
My love for you will stand before lovers all,
I would have such a love, would be their jealous call.
poem by R.K. Hart
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.