The Sunday Whirl: 09/12/21

My Vow to You

Kneeling down before you now
On carpets made of silk
I travel to a land I know
Where tears flow slow like milk

A line before me has been drawn
By wheels inside my head
Like flowers put before a throne
Where candles burn instead

Through the candlelight I see
A living, breathing man
And reaching out I do recall
A quickly as I can

That you are mine and I am yours
It’s not too late to see
That my heart is reaching out
Touching you tenderly

And so I ask you now my dear
If you will be my king
And with this vow I do present
A perfect wedding ring.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

5 thoughts on “The Sunday Whirl: 09/12/21

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