As the Deer …

My lover, you are a pencil,
And I am an empty page;
Softly whisper your love song,
Actor, I am your stage.

They say your word is working
Like the rain that nurses the land,
But all my heart is pining
For your tenderly wounding hand.

They say your songs are soothing
Like the wind that cradles the trees,
but all my soul is crying
To be brushed by the kiss of your breeze.

All my needs are met, says my reason,
But my heartstrings groan that your grace
Might fall on me like a feather
And I faint in your embrace.