Author: Joyce Hemsley
Fond words I write within my prose Sweet words of love for you alone My heart cries out where'er I go For you to be my very own. My mind is with you, rain or snow And when the winter breezes blow Sometimes I'm high, often I'm low, All because I love you so. Life is short as you well know So meet me where the lily grows Without your love, there is no prose No words come from a dying rose. My heart is yours, for you to own I sing love songs for you alone.