Dear love,

Dear Love,



The love of our world

is not of our ocheans of the purls

but by fait it was hurld

to land in our loves curls

he is neither man nor beast

but he wiil make our world poise

startin with the east

with a joyfull noise

we'll fallow him

though his ways are strange

and his light not dim

the side liners think we are of the derange

We'll fallow him to the end

insted of a world who will rome

this letter I send

To bring you home



Your love.