The Voice of Love

‘come to me’
a whisper thru the treesVoice of Love
sitting under the old oak
alone and weeping
I heard again
‘come to me’
in the leaves rustle
dried my eyes
looked up curiously
there you stood
a vision of beauty
hands outreach
a voice resonating
like a thousand
stringed instruments
‘come to me’
it was then I knew
as I ran into
your outstretched arms
it was the Voice of Love

©dorianna 2014
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