Her gentleness disappears underneath
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.... a choir of grief,
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she is ugly again and knows she must leave
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for hope of relief.
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and she calls to the tallest trees
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ancient sentiments wash through these leaves
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come home, come home to me
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cos i miss you my love, I miss myself too,
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the woman I became when I was around you ,
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beautiful and safe for moments of steel,
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impeccable love no money could steal and she calls.....
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mm memory with rooms full of pearls,
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refractions of potential perfect world
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where love roams free and unabashed
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where none are afraid and sight wasnĄ¯t dashed and she calls
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-----------------
|
Where None Are Afraid
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| Sheila Nicholls |
