63

Never More Than You

Flowers in the Fields of Alpine meadows
Give gentle scent unto the morning air.
Granite mounts do greenly spire the hollow
Heavens whose birds aflight are jewels there.

Singing trio with the sky and flowers
The sight of you does make all these treasures
The more adored, and this does empower
My frail human sense to fill with pleasure.

How gently you do walk now beside me, 
Your hand does rest most warm and kind in mine. 
The scented breeze does kiss your hair and these
Settings are but chalices to your wine.

My words are simple, but my meaning true, 
Nature's beautiful, but ne'er more than you.
   
 

Last Page

Return to Index

Next Page