Can I write you a love song
I’ll sing it softy in your ear all night long
Blow gently without words on my saxophone
Diamond and Pearls behind the throne
A beautiful ensemble meant for only you
As I give credence too
Take my hand
Cross this journey with me as I sing about faraway lands
Past Egypt pyramids shifting Morocco sands
Lay back my love, allow your mind to silently drift
Feel the enchantment of my piano keys as it spiritual uplifts

I’ll sing love songs of old
A cappella chorus echoed from deep within my enlighten soul
I’ll sing to you about the blues, society’s injustice, and elements of darken storms
Keep your heart warm, while playing my French Horn
Enrapture foretold from this dedicated symphonic poem
A music sheet of percussion, woodwind, brass, keyboard, and strings
Harmony carrying the mind away as the joy of coming spring
I’ll hum your favorite beats, can you feel the crescendo now
Fiddle from the heart by the sweat of one’s brow

Submerge your cerebral cortex, lose yourself in the sultry tunes
Harp sounds bathe of light kissed from the illuminating moon
Destiny overcasts in the lyrics
Fate floating stratospheric
Karma of others handled in the eyes of satiric
Opera, I give you so grand in its grace
French Creole dialect murmured among silk and lace
Sounds of my flute resonant to face
Allowing my Cello sounds to thoroughly embrace

Can I write you a love song
Body and soul serenading soprano to keep you standing strong
My guitar stringing your philosophies along
An equal equation, one plus one equals two
Emotions, feelings, sentiments, its tenor expressed only for you
No compass to my heart, my seasonal love found in hidden melodies
Trombone guiding back and forth breathless as it please

Orchestra sounds
Ascending minds, bodies, souls, pass the opening clouds, divine and profound
The last note sung by me as we gradually come down
Beautiful music embraced, needs never to make a sound
Shh, close your eyes
Meditate on the music for a little while

Hush sweet baby don’t say a word
My heart softly tweets to a mockingbird
If that mockingbird don’t sing
Can I write you a love song created only for your being
As minds are sightseeing
Hearts fleeing
Timpani drums guaranteeing
Entwined of our divine wellbeing
Emotions freeing
Crooning of bodies heard as the day is long
Can I write you a love song

They start as a single
before moving to unity
a chorus of chortles
to those who listen for that

It’s hard not to
when they rehearse in your right ear
and perform in the left

You said that they could
lent them the key
thought about drowning out
with a little symphony

What a ******* mistake that was

i Keep rubbing my wrists and my forearms nervously anxiously and can
feel the tendons ache and the muscles on my left forearm snap back and forth: a (broken) guitar string slapping the frets every
time it is
strummed.  If i push on the muscles --or the string, perhaps there is no difference-- too hard my hand (goes numb) and the cord (chord)-like muscles seep exhaustion into my skin --forgive me for this. there is little i can do and big i can do but all i remember is everything
it starts small a little bit of pain but i know I will willingly take it for just

( a little bit of you )

infiltrating me I don't know why my legs ache and my skin fights against me I am grateful for You fighting for me grateful for me fighting for You

this has been full of change full of upside down i am proud of my START AGAIN abilities of my explore: drive anywhere you want GO GO mindset
but sometimes I ache. calling you nightly is
not enough but I promise to make it enough
to try to make everything you do
feel like more than enough

                                             i love when the sun is warm and it is cloudy and i get the opportunity to trip over you Accidentally or (not so accidentally). falling into tears every time I hear a symphony play-- perhaps there is no love in the world comparable to a
symphony or perhaps I am
sinfully biased due to my
experiences with symphonic beings

i Intend to live my life Running or dancinG with symphonies blossoming between my tender and temporarily not calloused
fingers and
with you and we
Constantly reinventing what it means to be Alive  
I will try my best ( for you and for Me) but
there is not
enough time