He makes my heart sing,
And no it is not a fling.
Our love will last forever,
The love we have for each other won’t end ever.
Soon we will be hearing wedding bells ringing,
And to each other we will be clinging.
Our love may be hard to come by,
Joyful tears I will cry.
When we get married me in a white gown,
Walking down the aisle in a small little town.
Flowers in hand looking down the aisle at my wonderful man,
Knowing the love we have is all part of the plan.
The plan God had made for him and I,
Together we will be till the day we die.
About the Creator
Maria Johnson
I am a new published author trying to make it in the world
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson2 days ago in Fiction
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