All creatures of conscience long for something,
Every bee that buzzes longs to find the contended
Existence that can only come from solitude.
Every graceful swan longs to raise their young
Without fear of getting caught.
Every man wishes to be happy, finding it where
And how he sees fit.
As for women, well that is far more complicated:
Every daughter of Eve must face trial and hardship,
Her heart will surely be broken at least once, to
Be content is never enough, she longs for love.
Love, not mundane and ordinary, it must be
Wild and unpredictable, with stormy passion like
A raging sea.
When a woman desires something, when she desperately needs
To find herself again she will take to staring, wishing on
A star, trying to remember how she left her heart so long ago
On a distant shore.
Ultimately every woman always needs more, she can give
All she has, take everything that destiny throws at her,
Yet she will still be ready to receive more of
The bountiful love and grace that can be offered.
Me, well, I’m longing for you, and your love, find
Me, please, I’m waiting.