My Love Poem by Patrick Fealy

My love
Her heart is like a forest
where all my thoughts abide
Resting in the shadows where lonely lovers used to hide
Her voice is like a whispered dream that echoes in my brain
Her hand is like the touch of spring
like the gentle drops of rain
Birds and all creation are twittering in the trees
Rushing brooks go off to find the storied seven seas
The eagle just keeps circling above the canyons tall
but my love keeps me wandering
and wishing she would call
The object of my passion
seems lost and far away
but I would have no other love
In this forest where I stray