Streets

I guess I loved too deeply, couldn’t help myself.

Don’t come any closer, it only hurts me more.

I gave my heart to you, my mind and spirit too,
but still you cannot see me clearer, you don’t want to.

Will I ever walk these broken streets again?

I thought you loved me more, my rosebush friend,
and if I must surrender these streets I love,
I pray you will one day remember it was you I loved.

Wrought

What things hands have wrought
of strength and life and deed and thought,
of miserly mystery sight unseen
strong and sound of king and queen.

When wonder dances all the round
and quietly sings the song unsound,
then light and truth and beauty true
surround us all with love anew.