Swept...

If he said to me,

“I cannot sweep you off your feet,

I cannot give you riches,

but if you let me, I will sweep

the floor beneath your feet.

Together, I hope that we will keep

a house that’s clean and neat,

where our hearts will not be tainted,

covered with grime, and muck, and stain.

And though I cannot promise you

a life freed from worries and from pain--

as I’ve no doubt we will endure

the aches of temper and of strain--

I do promise forever I’ll remain

faithful to the end.

Like our house, so too our hearts,

free from chaos, free to rise

and love each time again.

I will love you without waver

and entrust to you my life,

and our children I will savor--

each a blessing, not a strife.

I will gladly offer

all I am and all I have,

if only you, too, will entrust

your heart into my hands.

These hands I will keep pure,

from temptations I will flee,

and in your love take solace

and mop and dust and polish

my heart and house both clean.”

If this he said,

then his love I’d know for me

for if a heart is ordered and uncluttered

it is free to love indeed.