Calling

Here I stand with trembling hands,

Saying," Here am I, here am I."

Yet, Love walks right on by.

I call and call until nightfall,

" Please, come to this butterfly?"

Yet, Love walks right on by.

Morning comes and I awake,

Calling, "Oh, how my heart does break."

Yet, Love walks right on by.

I must learn never to call,

Not to call for Love at all.

I'll see if Love still walks right on by.

If it stops and stays,

And never betrays,

Then I shall be enthralled,

With Love, sweet Love.

And never shall I have to call.

For Love shan't walk by, at all.

Poetry copyright 1999 by: Tulsabutterfly
All rights reserved.