Thursday, March 17, 2011

No Title

There is but little I can do or say
To make the meaning of my heart appear;
I cannot take you back to yesterday
And bid you listen as I did, and hear
The music of your voice hide in your laugh,
The smile slide itself between your words,
And thrill as I did, too happy by half.
I cannot make you understand the birds,
Who sing the songs I'd warble if I could,
Nor take you to a mountaintop and show
How everything that you could see below
Was less than you to me. You know I would,
If all of this were possible. It's not.
I'm stuck with the expressions that I've got.

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