Hey. Me again. (Sorry!) Please have your husband contact me at bribishop@hotmail.com (I was Elder Bishop that taught him the discussions). If you saw my comment on the last post and already had him email me, then please ask him to send another one because in a freak accident, I deleted all the messages in one of my email folders. If he sent me an email already today, it was deleted. Thanks!
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air That crossed me from sweet things, The flow of- was it musk From hidden grapevine springs Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache From sprays of honeysuckle That when they're gathered shake Dew on the knuckle.
I craved strong sweets, but those Seemed strong when I was young; The petal of the rose It was that stung.
Now no joy but lacks salt That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove.
When stiff and sore and scarred I take away my hand From leaning on it hard In grass and sand,
The hurt is not enough: I long for weight and strength To feel the earth as rough To all my length.
Yep, I care about the Earth, now. I'm becoming such a cliche.
1 comment:
Hey. Me again. (Sorry!) Please have your husband contact me at bribishop@hotmail.com (I was Elder Bishop that taught him the discussions). If you saw my comment on the last post and already had him email me, then please ask him to send another one because in a freak accident, I deleted all the messages in one of my email folders. If he sent me an email already today, it was deleted.
Thanks!
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