I am covered low, in love divine,
as one embraced in sacred vine.
A wreath by day, Thou lights heart shrine.
And come the night, Star-shine, soul’s brine.
The eyes of Heaven open revered,
Holy, holy, Our Lord comes near.
A hush of prayers bow low, sweet with tears.
Father – Our Lord, He is here. He is here.
Pour Love ravine, from caverns etched,
unleash the streams -come dancing fetched.
Such Holy moments do announce
Christ the King, with arms outstretched.
©2014 Linda Willows