|
The Language Unspeakable
by Scott M PratchnerWhen I feel her smile caress,
Or lose myself to evening eyes,
Yearning for impossible words,
I find
No lyric can arise.
Sentences conflagrate to ash,
When her soft touch sparks the fire,
To call her kiss eternal sun,
Falls short
Of something higher.
No poem, nor prose, can match her love,
No wisdom may they impart,
For this, my lass has tought to me,
I heed
This language of my heart;
This language of my heart! 04/17/2002 Posted on 04/17/2002
Copyright © 2025 Scott M Pratchner
|
