If I hold your hand still,
if I paint your world bright,
if I sing you my songs
will you love,
will you love me?
If I answer your needs
with a need of my own,
If I paint your world bright,
If I sing you my songs
will you love,
will you love me
love?
So you’ve forgotten what it feels like
to unfold yourself,
to undress, her soul
in your hands
like the dream
she was always meant to be
for you.
What is love, you might wish to know.
Love,
quite frankly,
is you.
I will whisper my softness to you every night.
I will whisper my softness.
To you.
Sweet Love.
I wander among the daisies, knowing you are there
traveling lightly in the fields of life,
towards home.
I have loved you sweetly
with the quiet of me,
my heart, my soul, my muse.
I will wait. Here.
In the fields of our forever.
I will wait.
If I sit with you.
On the patio,
by the sunflowers.
If I find you
with my soft and steady gaze.
If I give you my heart,
if I whisper your name
will you hold me?
In the arms of a dream
will you hold me,
love?
Hold me with your eyes.
Feed my aching night,
lover sweet,
and I will be
your spin
and tumble
and roll
into the haze
of the forgotten day.
The air around me
soars
with the thrilling madness
of you.
Take me to the sky.
Dance
with me
tonight.
Take me to the fire.
Dance with me
in the spaces between
the flames.
Burn with me, into
the quiet
of everything pure.
Everything.
Perfectly
beautifully
us.
Winter in my eyes,
the warm river of me
slowly
ceases to flow.
Frozen in time,
with only the memory
of two hearts spinning
into one
sweet
love.
In the arms of the rippling blue night,
the darling dreamers
sing
to the Gypsy song of yesterday.
And with a gaze:
tomorrow?
And with a kiss:
yes.
