Mountains can be moved with love
Is what you said
Fragile as thread
Soft as feathers of a dove
Mountains maybe, but not me
Maybe I am
The bare field then
There are no mountains to see
I still wait in the bare field
Where your mountain
Of love fountained
To another’s call you yield
As I wait for your return
A girl stumbles
Upon brambles
But beauty she did discern
Behold a sight to abhor
This barren land
Working her hand
Flowers grew forever more
With life brought to each petal
A stunning view
Of a love true
In beauty we will settle
No mountain was moved for me
Never had to
With time love grew
And blossomed unceasingly |
Submission Name: Love Grows on a Barren Field
