Beginning
I am not one to write of the happiest of years
Or muse at a setting where others would cheer,
I cannot pen a poem for those who I hold dear
For I feel the letters hang whilst the rhyming scheme sneers.
Though I would rather talk of eyes, so clear down to the core
And how my heartbeat sighs when I hear his spirit roar,
Of the majesty I find within his locked doors
A simple bond of kind that allows my soul to soar.
Time it seems would halt for the memories I hold
Encased in sheets of silver, bathed in words of gold,
Secrets shared between us and yet not ever told
Entities once separate now bind within one mould.
Endless measured moments spent tracing all our lines
And each strand within them, each curve and dip divine,
In borrowed time we relished as each solemn thread entwined,
The silent start of purity neither yours nor mine
But a life belonging, wherein you and I combine.?
Copyright © Holly King | Year Posted 2011
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