there was an age when
i would have closed my eyes
and trusted you, when you said,
to the moon and back.
when the smell of grass
and borrowed books, and
fresh paint and dreams
brought my songs alive.
i've traded sunburnt smiles
for unspoken words
and now, there are cold
October nights
without nightingales.
i, with my forest trails
and dark misty woods
now find in half moon smiles
and unshed tears,
broken poetry.
there's no trace of me
i've stopped waiting,
waiting for yesterdays.
and just when i'm sure
i want this day and no more,
you give me moments..
moments
with lilies outside fogged windows,
the warm glow of old love
you dance me around the room
your eyes talking of spring
there's the sound of water over pebbles
there are tree trunks by the shore
and as my feet sink in
miles of glorious black sand
there is laughter, all mine.
and in your eyes again
i know pain and quiet loss
and whispers, and dark moods
and there's this tightness in my chest
as you hold me close to yours
i'm learning to cry again.
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