My soul is deprived,
Thirsty, needy,
Wanting more of you.
My palette is dry,
Looking forward
To being with you.
Sharing in your aura,
Knowing your embrace,
Hearing your ideas,
Taking in your face.
Listening to your heart,
Knowing as I do,
You’ll become more a part
Of me; I of you.
Your soul is what I’m thirsty for.
It fills a void in me.
My soul is never more deprived
Than when you have to leave.
What if Charles Wesley Had Written Joy to the World?
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Charles Wesley doesn’t need anybody to stick up for him when it comes to
Christmas songs: The man gave us Hark the Herald Angels Sing, after all.
And if ...
10 months ago
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