Meandering -- The Chasm

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Meandering

Is soft this rain, my love indeed
and I have heard your gentle words
they pacify my bleak distain
contain the very essence of your thoughts.
Your tears are lost with mine but cried
confided to this sea through which
can see their form become denied
no less is pain or joy that they imply.
As plain it is, your smile is lit
through gaze a fixed till I return
shall fill my view with sight of you
lay still beside, each moments� interlude.
Must now concede preceding this
are lines containing mood at least,
they don�t quite say �my love� is yours,
as surely does, my kiss that underscores.

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