Count Me Blessed

Its genesis was unassuming, a query, its form-
The outgrowth obviates, all should conform!
A presence as soothing as her own name,
A spirit no one could ever possibly tame;
As the night wants for the Sun's renewal-
The world wants for this precious jewel!

What for, pray tell, has been made this gifting-
Of a lady so true, with a way that's so uplifting?
Count me blessed, for pleasure of her consort-
One that may not help but to invite true comfort!

Belying her own beauty, she knows not her own grace;
This is but causal the same, to the world's embrace!
Listen now beauteous one, to the world's rejoice-
Heed now this bellowed call, you haven't but a choice!

Maurice Harris,8 February 2010

poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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