Ballad of Our Love...
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
I’m giving birth to how our love
would have been life’s most tender home
and to how gracefully our souls
would have been blessed…
and I am painting you the picture
of our passion and delight
and I am rhyming you our every day and night…
come, hold my hand, my man, my mate
it’s not too late…it’s not too late…
here are our mountains and our moors
our savage bushlands and our shores…
here is the forest of our weightless
wondrous Mays…
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
you are my pride, my boy, my guide
and I’m your womangirl, your brumby
I’m your butterfly, your dawn
your fawn, your bride…
come, hold my hand, my man, my mate
it’s not too late…it’s not too late…
here is our house, our cherished haven
here’s our kitchen, here’s our bed…
this is the bright and brilliant ballad
of the words we would have said…
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
these are our children, see them smile
while they are playing in the yard…
this is the everlasting thruth
I’m gently laying in the lightrose of your heart…
poem by Rikki Keller
Added by Poetry Lover
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