A monument to heavenly love.
Six thousand stairs he carved in stone,
Up the mountain high,
There upon the highest point, he laid down to die.
For cradled in her arms he was, not to be alone,
No words he had of fancy Latin prose,
No gold or silver purse,
Just the neighbours curse,
Love is what he chose,
Her love is what he cherished,
Burdens of traditions stave,
For her in rock he carved a nave,
To love each other as they wished,
No riches did they share but love,
Hard work for years to come,
Far to hard for some,
Every day, he carved the stone,
Her tender feet grew old with age,
He knew she’d be alone,
Weary not of love, he carved that stone,
So aged of love, made him sage,
His love prepared them for the time,
Not from love escape, but earth domain,
That he would go, and she’d remain,
Her tender feet the mountain climb,
Both embraced in love and grace,
On top the mountain steep
He'd soon her now in heaven meet,
Sevenths heaven be their place.
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Regis
Probably you have hear of him...and perhaps not, but from the yadows of the Great wall of China came a thinker, not a philosopher from emperors dynasties, but a man of few words that could have inspired you to write this poem. Is name was Lin Yutang.
Georg
Peace,
Dan