Note: This poem has nothing to do with Jendhamuni’s life

Our love was a romantic book
from the sacred day we met,
your gentle charm enthralled me
from then-on the scene was set:
A sunny day, a rainy day,
it mattered not to me,
if I could see your happy face
and walk and talk with thee.

When snow was falling from the sky
and chilly breezes blew,
were it not for your embrace
I’d pine the whole day through.
So now we are alone my love
I offer you my hand,
to join with yours in wedlock
as all “dreamers” understand.

Author: Joyce Hemsley
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