Jewel of the Sound

“My love, more dear than this life,
you are to me. Your kiss more clear
than the crystal of the sea.
Please save me, I’ve fallen here.
I am lost and alone.”
Her melody, dedicated,
swelling inside and released with love,
flying across the aching miles,
winged as the whitened dove,
who was once a gray dormer,
above your candlelit window,
that now rises with the evening wind,
ascension, a crescendo.

“And the angel weeps, I hear him cry.
A lonely prayer, a voice on high.
Dry all yours tears, and, come what may.
And in the end, the sun will rise
one more day.”
Past the din, o’erhead, below the clouds
on fire–seething, an ocean of carmine.
Over the sound, the melody blows past
and all who hear the tenor, supine,
then fall into each other, meld as molten
entities. There are hearts to heal,
and with her love, she sends word
to every soul and spirit, ethereal.

Julie,
you’ve rekindled something...something lost,
but not forgotten. Something wispy,
like a name caught in the throat,
or a word that, after repetition,
seems alien and unfamiliar.
For all the thee’s and thou’s
in this, the Shakespearean sonnet
that is us, we will never falter our eyes,
or ears, or skin, or our heart...we are
the lovelatter ties that bind each great dynasty
of the heart and soul. A kingdom, grand
and regal; in which every touch is patrician.

We shall wait, together, and be the better for it.
Yes...the better for it.