Hand on your heart I bid....

This Heart of Mine
3-28-2003

Alas, as the new day struggles to put on light,
I In like form, seek to stilt and mantle myself in strength renewed once more.
I remain no stranger to this pale and wilting heart I both carry and tote,
For we have walked the same path for many years now.

I know well, yes, the shy retreating and bashfull heart, I carry this day,
for I have carried her for as long as she has carried me.
I, long familiar with her tender nature which words dare not recite nor tell,
As I am accustomed as well to her sadness daily saddled.
For I walk as she, and she as me.

Her voice within no doubt only I can hear,
while her cries of dissapointment, I fear often all can hear,
for her moans remain not subtle at times, nor her rage easaly dismisssed,
for she can purr like a kitten or rage like the sea,
yes, this heart of mine.

Her state of isolation, I have shared with her hand in hand,
And her passion for life, I have senced near and dear,
Though we seldom differ, her walk, and mine alike,
I therefore hear her always in our daily walk and flight.

I know not if the world hears her roar of day,
Nor her Alpaca like mews, that she breathes and whispers into the night,
For there are some things indeed, that she whispers only to me.

Alas, I catch and cradle her tears daily, as she weeps for me,
this heart of mine,
my friend.

Rodney Evan Bohen