Poems Submitted by Our Readers

My love is more to me than looks
although her hair is long and brown
that glitters more than mountain brooks
across her shoulders, falling down.
        
Her eyes more deep than forest earth
a gaze most soulful and alive
they fill a somber room with mirth
and brighten all but graying sky.
        
Yet that is not what draws me nigh
to urge my soul to bear her pain
for mortal form too soon shall die
and leave behind such shallow fame.
        
My love is strong, she fearest naught
with joy she trusts in God above
her soul is what my Christ had bought D
so that she shines with Christian love.
        
For this my love I wait for thee
with burning eyes and longing heart
oh blessed days your face I see.
and cursed be the days apart.


Jonathan H. Crouthamel