Love Was Ours In The Country Poem by Joyce Hemsley

O poet of my night, star number seven
archangel of light sent down from heaven
your words cast a spell and stay on my mind
in the place of good mirth
where your heart merged with mine.

In acres of bountiful meadow and trees
country of love with valleys and leas
harebells and heather were simply divine
in the place of good mirth
where your love sonnets rhymed.

In long ago days, you wandered with me
happily talking of life's future to be
the touch of your hand was gentle and kind
in the place of good mirth
where we left cares behind.

O poet of my night, star number seven
archangel of light sent down from heaven
your words cast a spell and stay on my mind
in the place of good mirth
where your heart merged with mine.