Monday, October 24, 2011


I would allow you, my darling

To persuade me with your lips

To walk, once more to the parting

But then, not as passing ships

Would we drift on silent oceans

Into heart-breaks endless night

But this time our love and devotion

Would dare to remain and fight

I would allow you, my darling

To brush misgiving aside

November is long without loving

How dull is its fireside

I would allow you to whisper

Those words I chose not to hear

I would not restrain the winter

If you came to meet me, my dear

The clock on the mantle reminds me

How moments flit through the heart

And though you are sitting beside me

Somehow we are oceans apart

When did we come to the crossroad?

Where did love’s passion divide?

Why do we choose to be lonely

While sitting here, side by side?

I would allow you my darling

To sway me with word’s delight

But somehow its lure is a weapon

Sharpened by misuse and spite

Would it make any difference

If we found a new way to start?

Or have years of hard, practiced silence

Molded an iron-clad heart?


This is not autobiographical…

But it could be, if we chose stubborn pride.


  1. Molded an iron clad heart .Gives me goosebumps!Sad that this happens though....

  2. Yes, even in a torrent of words there can be a 'silence' of sorts.
    It takes 'practiced listening', I believe, to break through that barrier...


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