Easter 7 Poem by Liza Sud
Easter 7
What I give you always - is Myself.
Anything for you I do not mind to spare.
Such a Holy Love and saint embrace
Is to give you everything without a trace.
I forgive you everything of Love.
Boundless My love, without vestiges.
From celestial latitude unbound -
I'm coming down to you in centuries.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: easter
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4/19/2024 3:43:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
To give and not to count the cost, that's true love.