He said ‘I DO’ long before I was formed.

Before I opened my eyes, He called me BELOVED.

I am His, and He is Mine.

His love, more delightful, more intoxicating than an ocean of wine,

the fragrance of my voice is pleasing to Him

as it drops sweetness as the honeycomb,

milk and honey  under the tongue of my worship.

He’s adorned me with strings of silver studded with gold,

my lips a scarlet ribbon.


I am a rose of Sharon,

a lily of the valleys.


From the deepest clefts of hell, he ransomed me,

through a blood washed romance

he holds me unblemished, His greatest prize.

I delight to sit in his shade,

and his fruit is sweet to my taste

Let him lead me to the banquet hall,

his banner over me is love.


He came,

leaping across the mountains,

bounding over the hills.

It is a season of singing


He came,

my beloved  into his garden

to taste its choice fruits

an orchard of pomegranates

with every kind of incense tree,

a garden fountain,

a well of flowing water

streaming down

to drink His fill of love


He appears like the dawn,

fair as the moon, bright as the sun,

majestic as the stars in procession.

May the wine go straight to my beloved,

flowing gently over lips and teeth.

I belong to my beloved,

and his desire is for me.