Come, place your lonely head upon my shoulder…

“The days, the years, they go…”

Come, place your lonely head upon my shoulder,
And breathe love in within this quiet place;
The days, the years, they go – we all get older –
But love is not just for the young of face

I’ll lightly touch your brow, and push your hair back;
And hold you next to me, my one desire —
For you are all, and everything, to me, love:
You’re every wealth I could hope to acquire

So many words around us in a buzz:
But love is not for them
It is
For us

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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