Storming
She's reckless and a constant change,
Her ways have gone from calm to ill;
A love so pure does she exchange
But waves a warm embrace turn chill.
Could you awake to morning grey,
Or bright sunshine in the night
A storm that brews in early day-
Or an impulse shed by late moonlight?
Could you let her in your heart that's sure,
In your mind of ready thought?
Could you invite her sure uncertainty
And the frustration that she's brought?
Could you let me in when I'm a mess,
My sharp tongue, but gentle touch?
Will my love alone suffice,
Or am I just too much?
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