Poet to His Love

An old silver church in a forest
Is my love for you.
The trees around it
Are words that I have stolen from your heart.
An old silver bell, the last smile you gave,
Hangs at the top of my church.
It rings only when you come through the forest
And stand beside it.
And then, it has no need for ringing,
For your voice takes its place.

Collection: 
1919

More from Poet

  • An old silver church in a forest
    Is my love for you.
    The trees around it
    Are words that I have stolen from your heart.
    An old silver bell, the last smile you gave,
    Hangs at the top of my church.
    It rings only when you come through the forest
    And stand...