Secrets

Hold me in your arms, my love, throughout the gentle night,

Gather up the threads of all my being;

Let the warmth of your caress, long after morning's light

remain, when thoughts of love are shadows, fleeing.

Let us take this night, my love, and as the dewdrops fall,

breathe the scent of paradise above;

Only Shadows and the Breeze may tell of it at all,

as, hand in hand, we tread the paths of love.

by

Shirley Frances Winskill 1994