He loves me, he loves me not.
This childhood rhyme that I was taught.
Comes back to me as to the ground.
Daisy petals, cascade down.
My trembling fingers pluck their leaves.
And as they do my soul it grieves.
Teardrops fall my heart is spent.
Unanswered prayers, heaven sent.
Velvet shackles; have me bound.
These precious blossoms, once my crown.
With carefree souls, I've not been blessed.
No daisy chains to wear in jest.
Just childish dreams, alas that rise
Heavenward unto the skies.
~ © 2008 by Dot McGinnis ~
This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact,
for non-profit ministering purposes.
[by: Dot McGinnis Copyright © 2008 -- submitted by: Dot McGinnis ]
All Rights Reserved.