Some dreams are born in silence,
a wish that takes its hold,
like a precious story,
waiting to be told.
It is the dream of your hand,
reaching out to mine,
to intertwine our fingers
for all of endless time.
And with that silent caress,
and your question,
soft and low,
a promise of forever,
in my heart,
begins to grow.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 11:42 AM UTC
Some dreams are born in silence,
a wish that takes its hold,
like a precious story,
waiting to be told.
It is the dream of your hand,
reaching out to mine,
to intertwine our fingers
for all of endless time.
And with that silent caress,
and your question,
soft and low,
a promise of forever,
in my heart,
begins to grow.
