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.
