My Love Not Be Late. Poem by Michael Gale

I am sorry i was filled with so much hate...
I'm so sorry if its way too late.

How do i say 'I'm sorry for all the hurtful pain? '...
-That, from me, down onto you, fell as rain.

Surrounding you with torrents of saddness, drowned you down...
Etched to a face of an unsmiled frown.

If i could take back all my gifted words to you, of regretful hate...
I'd feel much better, that timed not late.

Would'nt that be real, real great? ...
To know for sure, that we better interact and relate.

Now i love you ever more...
No more pain to ache and store.

Love now leads us both happier through life once more...
Now i love my wife, so much, much more.

All heated arguments are at last put to rest....
No more unsurmountable obsticles, of love's own test.

Thankfully through God, our love is best.
Anger and jealousy and resentment are no longer a welcomed or even a wanted guest.

For our true love, of each, is all thats best...
That for eternal time, will stand up to time's own test.

Thank God for us, our love will remain eternal steadier than all the rest...
A love so grande and beautiful as a peace filled tranquility, held tightly and dearly to one's own breast.