She asked me to write her a poem, this is what I wrote…
She dreams of winter winds that blow her breath and smiles She likes the simple things like walks, talks and style and when she asks me for my time I know she’s only teasing she knows that without her love I could not go on singing
For this reason then, she told me to sing a song and this is what I sang…
My voice is not the song of kings nor any angel will heed my cry But of all the sweetest things I bring the sound of silence I will try Not to strangle the loudest tear or hang a hope of sky As long as my love she loves me before the day my love does die
She told me then to tell a tale one that will never end…
Allow me to turn you into a book I’ll breathe your story into the breeze turn the pages of your eyes and whisper waves among the seas Let them leave your soil of sorrow Let them fill your dug up hole find some shade within the shadow where branches green within your soul
She stares weakly at the rest of me, and asks, “Are there no other words you keep?”
I look into her dying eyes words take her final breath