I have a passport to my lover’s heart;
It is my soul, that loves her totally.
And when see her my light arms will part
That she may leap and put her stamp on me.
(Oh, stamp me with your hottest kisses, dear,
And I will claim a visa all my days
To travel up your cheek and to your ear,
Where I will whisper words of loving praise
For city, state, and country such as you
Who are the greatest I did ever view.)
I, tourist, won’t need camera but my eyes
To hold in mind the wonder of your face;
I, traveler, won’t seek new mountain’s rise
When I have found its peak in your heart’s grace.