Summer Flowers

Labels: poetry

By Ben Mortimer

Come with me, and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

Of joy and youth, life and words,

That chance chore money affords.

I'll work rain, Sun, and showers,

And thou shall be given summer flowers,

Home and comfort I will surmount,

Even climb to the highest mount,

For you to be with me.

I will make you poems and words of gold,

All for you to hold,

Card of paper, and tongue of silver,

Words like candles flicker.

A necklace of hardened steel,

For the pieces of my heart that you steal,

A army jacket, green of hue,

All these things, just for you.

Ring of glass,

I hope to be yours at last,

And if theses pleasures may thee move,

Come and be my love.

The poets words shall sway and sing,

For thy delight every morning,

If these delights may thee move,

Come and be my love.

The Stream