Hear, my love, I bowed at the garden's edge
To tend in waiting, as dew waits for dawn.
That light might guide you to the tower's ledge,
And grace my eyes in beauty that was drawn.
Afraid if I should call out too loudly;
My heart's sole song might fall upon deaf ears.
Once silent, my voice that spoke too softly
May sing in joy knowing it's you that hears.
Not one small candle, not six flames by night:
For many happy lights birth a new day.
If candles hold the wish whispered in sight,
Then close your eyes, and forever I'll stay.
I breathe the garden's love you bring so near,
And listen to the bloom I hold so dear.
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 4:27 PM UTC
Hear, my love, I bowed at the garden's edge
To tend in waiting, as dew waits for dawn.
That light might guide you to the tower's ledge,
And grace my eyes in beauty that was drawn.
Afraid if I should call out too loudly;
My heart's sole song might fall upon deaf ears.
Once silent, my voice that spoke too softly
May sing in joy knowing it's you that hears.
Not one small candle, not six flames by night:
For many happy lights birth a new day.
If candles hold the wish whispered in sight,
Then close your eyes, and forever I'll stay.
I breathe the garden's love you bring so near,
And listen to the bloom I hold so dear.
