Of all thoughts, all passions, and all delights,
Whatever will waken this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of love’s insights
And feed the fuel to his sacred flame.

The thoughts, the passions, and all the delights
From you, do rouse this mortal frame of me,
To encourage love as its air ignites
And collectively lights, our eternity.

For sore eyes, a sight I saw through the door.
Heart healing hope was offered through the frame.
A mother and her child beautif’ly smiled
Through the door’s window’s picture plane.

Expectation postponed makes the heart sick;
For your realisation, my heart can’t wait.
Your patience helps me endure the clock’s tick.
Imbibing its air; the blows will abate.

You are calm and content with what you’ve got,
And by this you have so much more than most,
Yet brag of your virtues you still do not
Nor of your blessings do I hear you boast.

Naturally, with your utmost modesty,
While heeding the interests of others
You unconceitedly shine humility
Irradiating the love of brothers.

Whatever you do seems always decent,
Appropriately chaste, moral, and clean.
Whether from years of yore, or more recent
Of godly motives, have your deeds all been.

Your heart’s gaze, acutely on the look out
For that which stirs other’s hearts’ yearnings,
Examines the unseen psyche, shakes out
The cob webs of their suppressed despairings.

Paying such heed to the words of their mind,
You learn, and discern their very being.
It’s in their needs where your interests lie,
So you can see what their heart is seeing.

Giving rise to an unwelcome reaction
Is not something seen on hearing your name.
Biting back at what’s of fruitless faction,
To the person you are, does not pertain.

Your memory bank is cleared of accounts
That cause injury to the mind you mould.
When, to the potter’s plan your mind amounts,
You’ll be brought in out of the bitter cold.

Your compassion feels sorrow of others.
This is a virtue under stealth attack.
You’ve fortified yours with shielding covers
Of righteousness driving me forth, not back.

Over righteousness you do so rejoice,
Where the contrary clearly pains you so.
To show joy over truth is but a choice.
You love the truth, and let everyone know.

Truth is your joy and in it we’ll delight.
Love of truth is the one and only way.
Love: exactly what the truth will incite.
The truth about love God guides its way.

Love bears all things because God is love.
Endures all things which, for our back, is a rod.
All things hoped for are from whom came the dove.
It believes all things because love is God.

Should we allow our God to take the wheel,
All fears, foreboding what might be ahead,
May be dispelled for they were never real,
But were from our hearts, betraying our head.

Your voice is the music of all your thoughts.
Your thoughts are paintings of your mind above.
Your mind’s clean canvas, my mind’s brush so courts.
My being is yours. Your being; I love.

By Tom Lock