Lonnie Hicks (www.lonniehicks.com / Chicago Ill)
A Crooked Stile
Press me down to common ground
I’ll not fear or protest;
carry me to highest heights
give me wings to fly;
hold my hand against the tempest
as I cling to my hearts mast,
I'll not be blown away.
Lift my face to sunny sun
twinkle in my eye;
through it all
my heart rests
assured you have given all your love;
and that is enough
for any man;
especially this one
whom you rescued
from the lost and found
with just a gentle smile;
giving me against all odds
your whole and complete trust;
and that is enough for any man.
Crippled from bumpy roads
and crooked stiles
I learned to walk again;
you took no credit then or now
for the miracle that it was;
but reflected as I was in your eyes
I once again to believe in the me there;
and unwavering you never second-guessed
even though I did.
You believed in me
and that is enough for any man.
My soul rebounded and sewed up its jagged wounds
desperate not to let you down
and a second miracle occurred
when it transformed itself
so as to be true in your eyes.
And that is enough love,
my love,
for any man.
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