September Song Poem by Joyce Hemsley
September Song
Come close my dear and hearken
As wedding bells surround us,
On this, our own September day
The joy of love has found us.
The kindness of the Preacherman,
and gold upon my fingers...
All those in love will understand
How the bliss of heaven lingers.
Where could we find love so divine?
Let's drink a toast together.
To the night God made you mine.
To our own September.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 11:34:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
