THE READING
I wait to be your love, and wait I must,
all made of patience, as a rock should be,
though you delight to live in what you trust,
the sands of time will bring your love to me.

In ev'ry tea leaf I see you are mine,
as where the cards have fallen tell the same,
yes, all the stars are lighted by the sign
that you are mine, and we have love to blame.

Within each night, alone though I must lay,
I loose no sleep for what love's had in store,
nor do I care, as rising to the day,
who made your bed a joy the night before.

How love can be mysterious and deep,
is not a thought that plagues me in my sleep.

I put aside the grief most lovers feel
when love's one sided, as ours seems to be,
but I've enough, and you can bet it's real,
withstanding all of times reality;

my heart it races ev'ry time you're near,
and brings my life to think--this time it's death;
how you could never notice all the fear
saves me from far beyond my final breath,

from time's eternal curse love's come to be! 
Too soon! Too soon! for you to ever know,
and so I've got to hold your love in me,
until the time is right to let it show!

My wait is long--some never understand,
nor wish to know, such things are ever planned.
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