(If Only I Could Find the Words)
If only I could find the words
that would make the difference in your world
and keep you from running to hide
every time you feel it crashing down around you.
Your beauty is an illusion to you
for even in the eyes of the beholder, you will
see what you want to see
and disregard the thoughts of others.
The outward manifestation of that vision
has made people stand up and take notice,
only to have you sit down and blend into the woodwork,
seeking a refuge in clear coated oak.
If only you would know
that all the thoughts that you think
would be deemed as wisdom,
if only you’d share them more.
Your voice is a symphony,
an aria for my ears and a score
to hum throughout my day,
if only you would set it free.
The tenderness and compassion
that resides deep within you,
suffocates on the precepts of indecision,
with no resuscitation possible.
And if only I could find the words,
I would tell you that you are loved
for who you are, as you are, and
for as long as you remain, dear Prudence.
Our passions define us. The things that move our souls and puts us in sync with the universe lives within. Music can be the ultimate expression of my heart. But my lyrics give my songs a voice; this melodic poetry of my life. I am driven by the rhymes and rhythms that are the underlying score of my existence. This site will highlight my original poetry and short fiction, as well as my music; the stirrings of my soul that have been long hidden. My observations through the eyes of a poet's heart.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
DEAR PRUDENCE
Categories:
Day 12 NovChapChall,
If Only...,
Poetic Asides,
Walt's Heartflashes - Poetry
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nice -- you could have been talking to me // jeb, oregon
ReplyDeleteAwesome, Walt. Are these really for someone? or do you come up with these without a specific muse?
ReplyDeleteOh gosh, I'm teary over this one. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks all. jeb, I guess that's the key, making every reader believe I'm talking to them. That's good. Wendy, There was no specific muse...sort of. I did have one in mind that I reference for this one. She never saw the beauty she espoused, and she had an inkling she was loved, but never allowed herself to get that close to it. And Deb, you flatter me. But I guess, if I'm drawing out those emotions, I must be saying something, huh?
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