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Poetry by Rachel A. Gold

To a Lover

To a Lover

by Rachel A. Gold

If I must quietly let you guess
The sum of everything I feel -
If my heart swells to seal my voice
Because my love is tensely real -
Of my hands tremble at your touch
The tears spring quickly when you go,
O, don't insist that I speak much -
You surely know.
Perhaps, when love is not so new -
And I grow used to see your face,
My heart will calmly greet you then,
Yes, gaily greet you, from my place
But now - my hand must clutch your hand-
My hearts' so lately overcome
It is so strange to understand
That I've come home.


Poetry by Rachel A Gold


Copyright 1996-2000

Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:48:27 EDT