The silence of night,
While the world sleeps,
Is a place for lovers.
For those searching a connection.
There is no one else in this moment,
Other then each other.
Then before the world awakes,
The morning silence,
Is for the poets,
And the over thinkers.
As they write the words,
That have been haunting them all night.
She was swing of skirt,
And passion in every serge of her pulse.
The contour of her waist,
A crescent moon to wish upon.
And he was the untamed sea,
Powerless to her invisible pull.
She only saw the outward curve of her stomach,
He only saw the curve of the small of her back,
As it dipped,
Then rose over the curve of her arse
Half sketched thoughts,
On scribbled notes,
Littered daydreams around her bed.
And as she sleeps,
Amongst these hopes,
You dance with words around her head.
We all carry a seed of something,
Tucked inside our heart.
We just need to let it grow.
And I carry you tucked inside mine.
Thoughts that tease you
With half hidden wants
And you try to pretend you can’t see them.
The irony of wanting you to look me in the eyes,
To see me.
Really see me.
When they are green,
And you’re colourblind.
When you’ve carried things too long,
Come dance along the shore,
Where sea and sun bleach the sand.
Get lost in the rubbed out edges,
And just escape a while.
Each grain of sand,
Stretching out before you.
So slip off your binds,
And walk amongst them.
Savour these moments of escape.