I wish I could sing you a love song.
But all I have are these tuneless words,
arranged just so.
No melody, no harmony.
No sweet serenade,
in time with a soft guitar.
I have composition,
and meter.
Sometimes a rhythm & rhyme.
It's what's behind these words,
that create my poetry.
The feelings they betray.
I can tell you how I love you,
like the bumblebee loves the flower,
deriving sustenance and pleasure
from its sweet nectar.
I could compare my need for you,
to the need of a junkie.
Trembling with desire for that next fix;
such a luscious rush.
I can explain to you how,
without you,
colors are muted,
bled dry of their vibrancy.
My tastebuds have gone dormant,
enjoying neither sweet nor sour.
The clock has become lethargic,
its minute hand lazily circling 'round.
Time stands still,
holding its breath.
And all I can hear is the beat of my heart,
calling out your name.
Would that be enough?
Lyrics,
missing the chords and notes to go along.
Can you hear my ballad in your head?
Does it sing to you?

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