As I peruse a few petals of the day
A thought has come for my mind to play
Is Faith the ultimate fact of Love
The power base in which it stands upon
Or does Love wear Faith like a glove
To easily of delicate dispose
One finger at a time
In which Love to unclothe
To shed down bare for naked see
For Love to face light in all it's reality
What blemish lie upon it's surface tone
What Faith itself shall allow Love to own