Our love has slowly gone
Heavy with mundane demands,
The dregs of days spent dutiful
While hunger goes to sleep unfed.
We love each other still, of course,
But love is listless, fretful, tired,
Pining for the potent word
That comes from angels in the heart.
Oh, say it, Love, and I will, too!
And time will wait for us to dance,
Touched by one another's grace
To give what we so long have sought.
There is a passion undismayed
That lives throughout the long, gray days
Of work and worry, knowing that
Our patient love awaits our will.