A book is not beloved
If it’s sitting on a shelf
Collecting dust and waiting
There with others by itself.
What makes a book beloved
Is the time I spend with it.
The same is true for people
When I take the time to sit.
Love is to be tended
Like a garden or a tree.
It cannot be neglected
Or it will escape from me.
Hearts, like books, sit on the shelf
Too often they are broken,
Not by being all alone,
by words that were not spoken.
Books long to be touched and read
And will wait until they rot.
Hearts long to be loved and held
But will break if they are not.
(photo credit bonpic.com)
journeywithgigi 