Unspoken words do not, as poets say,
Die on the tongue - in truth they are transformed.
"Please, As you wish, I love you, will you stay,
These, lingering, turn crawlers, all deformed.
The webs they should have wrapped 'round hearts astray,
In throats catch words that might have coldness warmed.
Speak! lest you are likewise robed in silence,
And thus robbed of love do your soul violence.
Copyright © Grace Williams | Year Posted 2012