Joyce Hemsley (22.9.28 / Portsmouth England)
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.
Comments about this poem (September Song by Joyce Hemsley )
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