softly-uttered
sweet-sounding
syllables

I whisper them with deep mad longing

words
turn
into
poetry

in your name

Beloved

Words are now
as if
I never wrote

gather as an aching
lump in my throat.

They don't seek paper
only a river
to pour and mingle
in refrains of a dumb sadness
flow away
sunburned and tidewashed
to where the river is widest
deepest with sighs
of life not enough
in once only
and when just begun
ending broken on the shore.

Love is Pure, Love is Helpful, Love is Truth.
Love is eternal, Love is Mercy, Love is Protecting.
Love is Christ, His Love is Healing and Salvation.

She knew the world,
He knew the words,
She shaped the blue skies,
He played with the meter in fives.

She brought in the aura,
He pictured in the flora,
She glittered in the halo,
He wandered in an abyss so low.

She was well versed in art,
He talked in silence with himself in part,
She was ready to know him and walk with him toe to toe,
Walking all alone all along, he was ready to find himself too.