Author Information
fire and light
Folder:
Poetry There's more to me than meets the eye,
Or even than meets your touch,
There's more to me than you'll ever see,
For what I am is too much.
You look at me with your sparkling eyes,
But those sparks do not touch my kindling,
You are not him, to light my fire,
And I feel it go on dwindling.
So strike a match, and it will burn,
But it does not burn for me,
Though the light is beautiful; it quickly fades,
Past what even my eyes can see,
My light is pale, but still it shines,
A beacon unto my perfect man,
He knows that I await him here,
He will fine me when he can.
"So dream of me," I whisper to him,
"Dream ever of our days."
And so he does, of our approaching lvoe,
And shines in so many ways.
