Searching soul, you musn't rush,
time the paint of heaven's brush.
Slow and steady wins the race,
chaos comes of quicken pace.
Send for me a whitened dove,
For Angel true, its you I love.
A corner I must slowly turn,
A phoenix rising still is burned.
As sure as sun is kissing me,
A place inside I save for thee.
Shorten rhyme I try to do,
To spend a moment here with you.
My coo of patience seeking,
of all your heart is speaking.
© 2013 L.K.Sorrows
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautifully written poem!