blessed warmth, within the cold, dark night.
Oh, sacred soul, attracting so much light.
A quiver and the morning starts to fall.
As if a heathen urged its hungry call.
The glow of moon. The stars aglitter.
Transform the awful, ancient shiver.
Oh, blessed warmth, come sleep with me tonight...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .