A Bridge of Love
That bridge took us to paradise

A Bridge of Love
We met in the summer of '73,
And laughed for days,
But it wasn't to be.
For you were gone,
I on one side of the mountain,
You lived on the other side.
Also in between us the deepest sea.
We where sinking, bottomless sea.
I missed you so,
I tried to rebuild the bridge.
the bridge I made was built with love,
Not with stone or wood.
I took one step towards you,
You took one step towards me,
And both of us fell, down and down,
Into the darkest sea.
There we swam together,
To an unknown, unforgettable shore,
Where there were no other people,
Together we said we would stay forevermore.
Just there upon that distant shore,
We found the love we'd lost before.
No mountains stood to keep us apart,
No endless sea could drown the heart.
We built a home upon the pretend sand,
us two for more than hand in hand.
The stars became our candlelight,
The moon watched over us at night.
every morning, when the sun rose
Over golden waters blue,
I thanked the waves that carried me to you.
You took my hand and whispered low,
"There's something love you need to know.
That bridge was never meant to stand,
For love can't always cross on land.
Sometimes two hearts must fall together,
Through stormy seas and darkest weather.
And only when they reach the shore,
Can they find what they're searching for.
So there we stayed as years went by,
Beneath an ever-changing sky.
And though the world forgot our names,
The love between us stayed the same.
And when our final sunset came,
You softly whispered out my name
We fell together, you and me,
And found our heaven in that the sea.
Twas somewhere in the summer breeze,
Beyond the mountains and the trees,
Two hearts still dance upon their shore,
Together now, forevermore.
Now our families stand each year,
On the edge of the cliffs and shed a tear.
This I cannot understand.
They say our love wasn't meant to be.
That's why God took us to heaven,
As we fell we found paradise you and me.

About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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