Well, I wanted to write you a poem
You'd be sure was just for you.
To slide over your fingers
Soft pillow familiar, red-ribboned new.
So I thought I might start with your brown eyes,
Earth-deep gentle and silent,
That house many multitudes
Of whispers – soft, honestly sentient…
But what can words say of your lovely eyes?
They cannot be referenced
Or filed alphabetically –
Gorgeous great meadows that will not be fenced.
And could I describe your pale, smooth shell voice
Safe as moss and crystal clear?
Do I really wish to try,
Or let it swim freely, gossamer sheer –
No. I shall not textualise you.
I think I want you to be free, my love.
Free of wordy descriptions
Inadequate adjectives
And kindly meant poetic precriptions…
I want to love you. Let me.
SJL: 19th September, 2006
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