He'll take the helm and guide me through
The storms besieging my soul;
When doubt leads to indecisiveness
He'll step in and take control

He'll be the wind beneath my wings,
Saving me from swift descent;
He'll intervene when he perceives
A choice that I might repent

He'll know my strengths and weaknesses,
For he will have forged the key
That permits entry to my heart,
Revealing each mystery

Before my cup of hope is drained
He'll refill it to the brim;
He'll tranquilize my restlessness
With poetry, or a hymn

But cherished most will be his love
That's searching relentlessly
For a heart to combine with his
In flawless harmony.
This is the man I've yet to meet . . .
These are the things yet to be

It's over, our love is dying,
It won't make it through the night,
The willows are weeping in anguish,
While the stars cry their tears of light

A rose bows its head in sorrow,
Exhaling its last perfumed breath;
A love that once burned so brightly
Is meeting an untimely death

Tonight all the doves are mourning
And asking "How can this be?"
Waves patiently wait at the shoreline
To sweep the remains out to sea

Dismal is the mood in Heaven --
We've made the angels cry;
But come, let us say our last farewells . . .
Heaven knows that all things must die

In a field of daisies, beneath quiet skies
The stardust of Love beclouded my eyes;
Plucking the petals, I played the game ---
Oddly, the daisies all answered the same;
Amidst dire omens, our passions were stirred,
Warnings from the mute flowers went unheard

In a field of daisies my Fate was sealed --
In a field of daisies, the truth revealed;
His pledges of Love he soon forgot,
But the daisies knew . . . .  he loved me not