Time with Dora ~27/30~

I'm not sure you'll ever know
what our afternoons mean to me -
Sun filtering in those old windows,
Gabbing about art
and dating
and Jesus
Until the street lights come on
and we strain to see the hands on the clock

We have solved riddles and traced histories
Like I trace the ink stains on your carpet
We have shared hearts and delved mysteries;
I have cried into your ancient stuffed bear,
As you have rubbed my head and sung hymns to me.

Nothing exciting, nothing elaborate -
Just two hearts pouring forth friendship
And time is a ministry -
Sweet, sweet time to do nothing...
It's everything.