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?
J~
This is not autobiographical…
But it could be, if we chose stubborn pride.
Molded an iron clad heart .Gives me goosebumps!Sad that this happens though....
ReplyDeleteYes, even in a torrent of words there can be a 'silence' of sorts.
ReplyDeleteIt takes 'practiced listening', I believe, to break through that barrier...