Stained Glass

and does he read my heart
as the choir sways as one:
I like to think so--the
print is plain to me, either

in Times Roman or Garamond,
the time of our union, these
fifty something minutes (and
mornings and evenings besides)

in quick snatches for sanity, oh
help me.....
when far removed from the ivory
of lilies or the crimson of

blood, so red as the sun penetrates
through the stained glass heart,
leaded but not heavy, that
repository of light for all time