Times
Between the lines
It seems, at times, between the lines.
the meanings in the gleaning
neat nuances aligned with signs
The subtle shades of meaning.
Expressed in words often heard.
the power of the pencil,
Way below, my senses stirred
My mood is instrumental.
The wind and air often dare
to sing a song of love,
in a world beyond compare,
A hand inside a glove.
The love we have is liquid.
It flows within my veins.
It seems that I’m addicted,
combustible in flames.
The past is poised and disappears.
As I fall in love with you,
Tears are music to my ears,
I feel the morning hue.
Past the fast and furious
into soliloquy
mystified and curious
Your presence stays with me.
Before the door was open
It whispered as it closed
then the words flew like birds
and my life was transposed.
It seemed like I was dreaming
and love meant to last
the subtle shades of meaning,
They are simply unsurpassed.
©
David Rudder
2022
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