Black is the color of my true loves hair
His looks are something wondrous fair
The purest eyes and the firmest hands
I love the ground where on he stands



Although you'll find our house a mess
Come in, sit down, converse
It doesn't always look like this
Some days it's even worse

Bed is too small for my tired head
Give me a hill topped with dreams
Tuck a cloud up under my chin
Lord, blow the moon out please

Rock me to sleep in a cradle of dreams
Sing me a lullaby of leaves
Tuck a cloud up under my chin
Lord blow the moon out please

One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow
Tis the set of the sails and not the gales
Which tells us the way to go
Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate
As we voyage along through life
Tis the set of a soul that decides its goal
And not the calm or the strife

Lovefire, an eternal fire.

The flames leap and dance, showing our love for all to see, and warming those nearby.

Yet, the flames cannot match the intensity and radiance of the coals, the source of the fire, of the real love, deep inside.

And as the fire burns, and intensifies, the wood is changed, the soul is changed. Changed to glowing coals, the source of the lovefire.

Dad wrote this for me just before we were married. I loved it so much I had it printed in our wedding announcement.

I wonder what she thought as she stood there strong and tall. She couldn't turn away, she was forced to watch it all.
Did she long to offer comfort as her country bled, with her arm frozen high above her head?
She could not shield her eyes, she could not hide her face. She just stared across the water, keeping freedoms place.
The smell of smoke and terror somehow reduced her size. so small within the harbor, but still we recognized...
How dignified and beautiful on a day so many died. I wonder what she thought, and I know she must have cried.