I believe in, yet know not how to accept, her ardor-
This is my mind's and heart's conflicted barter;
My mind says: 'surely, truth hath been spoken-
Her soul, lain bare to me, ne'er merely token! '
My heart says: 'surely, this may not be real-
Yet, she relays what her heart doth truly feel! ? '
Not once in my life have I been so tender-
Until God shone upon me again, her splendor!
At times, I am in awe, others, in disbelief-
Either way, my heart purloined-she, its thief!
Each solitary nox, as I lie down, to sleep,
I thank God: 'Heavenly Father, allow me to keep
This love she offers me-e'er allow that it be earned-
Assured Thee must be, it will be likewise returned! '
Maurice Harris,5 May 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem