Love is a gentle morning mist,
Sprayed on a thirsty heart.
It gathers into little drops,
Thereto its journey starts.
Each tender, caring moment,
Each kindness that you shared,
Was like a tiny dew drop,
Gone up into the air.

Although it seems they’ve passed from here.
Forgotten in the past,
They’re storing up in rain clouds,
To rain back down at last.
One day when you are hot and dry,
In need of help and cheer,
The drops will rain down heavily,
To wash away your tears.

For all the love you’ve given,
Is not lost but stored away,
Just waiting to refresh you,
On a hot and dusty day.

- By Marie Morrow


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