Sharon
In breathless,
broken jolts of time
A surge of loving flows, in rhyme,
In rhythm with my every stride
Through life, in light and dark, with pride.
When looking out from warmth and light
To breathy swirls of Autumn night
At lonely souls who hurry down
To nothing but old sorrows drowned,
I know the ransom that I hold
Would buy a king, if he be sold
For one smile, or laughter shared
With you who has my heart ensnared.
© Jan Culshaw