You Know Where My Heart Is
On that ordinary Monday to Friday
Morning trip of little consequence
For a newspaper collector
I found you and you were
My news headline for the day
On that fourth day of a dry
September you blossomed
With colors of spring to be
The only flower in a desert I live in
You touched me with stories
That awakened the ears of my ears
You painted before me dreams
That opened the eyes of my eyes
In that strange meeting I discovered that
You know the coordinates for my heart
And the gentle way to it
With stories you told and dreams you painted
You know where my heart is………
|