To be loved is a bower of roses <br />Heavy with warm, scenting the deepest curve <br />Of my soul, or hours of rainbows, floating <br />Colour into my mind, and observing <br />How they gleam light onto secret dreams my <br />Heart melts in a smile. To feel I am loved <br />Fills me with true tree-green peace. Cloudless sky <br />Impregnates bluest of blue in me. Above <br />All I walk straight now, taller, sedately <br />Measuring time with hope. Love showing how, <br />If patience reigns, our day will not be late <br />In arriving. It will appear, allowing <br />Love it's own space. Destiny, fulfilling <br />Fate's call, I shall be loved then, as God wills.<br /><br />Fay Slimm<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-loved/
