The aching heart,now a cliche
Conveys what I desire to say
A painful void.an emptiness
My heart beats with this stern duress.
A gentle touch or glancc may be
Tactful as a mother’s knee.
A child held close but stifled not
Will soon outgrow their baby’s cot.
Held visions of a mother’s face
In our mind shall give us grace.
And father seem a sturdy tree
Enabling mother just to be.
O touch me with your tender hand
Whilst I cross through this dangerous land
Touch me softly,touch me long
Whilst I write for you these songs.
Each in turn shall take and give
So in constancy we live.
Faithful,tender,tactful .true
All that’s old is now made new
How my heart sings 