Shall I speak them, then? Words that shine
Like the light filtering through your backyard wood,
Golden and suffused with the magic of all that is mine.
Shall I speak them over the grief you misunderstood?
But all is well with us, my friend.
When you have turned at last to go
When the sun nests low in the far branches there,
Blanketing your broad shoulders with a refined glow,
Shall I speak them then? Soft on my lips, a recited prayer.
And all is well with us, my love.
Shall I speak them when the world is night,
Sliding the lock in place as I close the door?
Speak them to myself and the walls that close in tight
Around who I am, unspoken words standing on a broken floor.
Still all is well with us, my soul.
*apologies to those who left lovely comments here, but I saw an edit I needed to make.
Well, since your last comments were stolen, have another. Your writing is amazing:) *kisses*
..shall you speak so eloquently?
..and if you do, will others choose
..Or, close their ears, to the poetry
I have so often misunderstood your work; is it me you address? Are they my shoulders you see, invited to leave? You shall be counted as my friend for so long as I breathe. And for so long as we are friends, fear not, I shall love you forever.
You are a wonder to behold.
Do I have to use a flag here?
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