Thursday, November 12, 2009

DEAR PRUDENCE

(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.

4 comments:

  1. nice -- you could have been talking to me // jeb, oregon

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  2. Awesome, Walt. Are these really for someone? or do you come up with these without a specific muse?

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  3. Oh gosh, I'm teary over this one. Beautiful.

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  4. Thanks 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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