Being Loved. Poem by Fay Slimm

To be loved is a bower of roses
Heavy with warm, scenting the deepest curve
Of my soul, or hours of rainbows, floating
Colour into my mind, and observing
How they gleam light onto secret dreams my
Heart melts in a smile. To feel I am loved
Fills me with true tree-green peace. Cloudless sky
Impregnates bluest of blue in me. Above
All I walk straight now, taller, sedately
Measuring time with hope. Love showing how,
If patience reigns, our day will not be late
In arriving. It will appear, allowing
Love it's own space. Destiny, fulfilling
Fate's call, I shall be loved then, as God wills.