The Voice of My Mate

The Voice of My Mate

It is ever a joy to me,
The sweet voice of my mate.
The sound of it is pleasant to my ears,
I can easily pick it out from among
The many voices in a crowd.
My spirits rise when I hear her voice,
"I'm home ..." as she comes in the door.
I find myself indulging in the life of it,
Indeed it gives life to my spirit.

Once when we were together in prayer
Praying aloud together in a room,
Our eyes were closed, I was at peace.
I drifted into sleep listening to her voice,
The sound of it just before slumber was
As ice cubes tinkling in a glass,
The sound of refreshment on a hot summer's day.
I was startled, of course, by the push in her voice
As she found me sleeping during her prayer,
Yet how could I resist that oh so peaceful sound
Of Judy's, my mate's voice?