Tell me nothing, darling, nothing
Of the shadows, stretched
And leaning on slopes where once we relined
And tell me not of the silhouettes etched
In perfect artistry on the horizon line
Or of the way the world is an ocean of peach
As the sun and the day slip beyond our reach
And tell me not of the daisy fields
Of the place were the sea and the skyline yield
To a flawless sweep of ethereal blue
Or of the starlit deep or of midnight’s hue
Oh, my darling, please tell me not
Of the ache in your soul and the void in your thought
Or of how seasons pass far too urgently
Don't whisper on paper the agony
Of longing and dreaming and hope's burning fire
My darling, tell me nothing to tease my desire
With out those few words I most need to hear
‘I love you, I need you, I miss you, my dear'
J~
I'm reading Washington's Lady by Nancy Moser
the story of George Washington's wife. She received many letters from him
and I wonder what they said....when he died she burned most of them to keep
just between the two of them what he told her.
