Going to the Well

What good is love if I don't feel its power,
if I don't touch the story it can tell?
Where do I go to quench a thirsty hour?
When I am dry, I go back to the well.

When I need to renew my love for Andy,
I think back to the times I can't forget,
not to when I would give him coin or candy,
but to the orphanage when once we met.

Where he first looked at me and simply smiled,
and we just played together dad and son,
or when he'd jump into my arms, a child
so glad to greet his dad when day was done.

The boy I loved so dear when love began
helps love to reappear now he's a man.

                         -- by Pete Voelz            7/05