YEARNING

Your arms; my bed

Where I yearn to be fed

And considers my sacred shed

Is where I need to be led

Your eyes; my mirrors

Where there are antidotes to my horrors

And I consider my sacred corridors

Are what I yearn to lock my doors

III

Your bosom

My flowering pillow blossom

Is what I need as my kingdom

To enter into complete freedom

Your ears; my healers

Are what curb my quivers

And the gateway of my cooling tempers

There are my sweet breezy rivers

You and you and you

You are my union

My set in pair for a Zion

Give me all, all of your you

Tags love, POETRY.

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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