My fair lady, cry to your hearts' content,
I'll cup my hands and, ev'ry tear capture,
Pain is the thing which the heart doth contend,
'Til time can heal and settle the matter.

But if tears must fall from your angel eyes,
Let joy be the reason rivers do flow,
Therein we will bathe and be sanctified,
As we become one, two halves become whole.

Let laughter replace all sadness within,
'Til vision is blurred so eyes cannot see,
And Glad cracks an angel face with a grin,
'Til drops become puddles; rivers, the sea.

Full of glee like a child on grandpas' knee,
When your tears do flow let them wash o'er me!
JS