Sonnet VI


The gift of love may dress in many ways:
Ofttimes in soft and cozy cotton, bought
By fate–a family’s love that wraps and stays,
As warm to any who had been their lot;
Ofttimes in denim chosen by a friend
To walk and talk where weeping willows sigh
Or laugh together till the daylight’s end,
Then part our pathways with a quick goodbye;
But not in royal garb, intended by
A King, to call me His eternally,
To share my little life in His great sky,
Not till His loving kindness looked on me.
Such love I find in my great God alone:

He gave up all to make my heart His own.

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