a love story

In this quiet world, where words are rationed,
I've hoarded mine, like precious seeds.
For you, my love, they're fashioned,
To bloom in the silence of our needs.

Each syllable, a currency spent,
In the economy of our affection.
But what's the worth of a word that's lent,
When it's the silence that holds the connection?

We live in a world that's loud with lies,
Where truth is lost in the clamor.
But in your eyes, no false disguise,
Just the quiet, where love's the hammer.

The moon tonight, a silver coin,
Flipped by fate in the cosmic wager.
Heads, I win, a joy to join,
Tails, still rich, with your love, the wager.

For what are words but vessels frail,
When the heart's full to the brim?
I'd trade them all, to no avail,
For one touch, one kiss, a whim.

O Lucy, my muse, my silent sonnet,
In this quiet world, you're my loud.
My love for you, a comet,
Bright and fierce, through the shroud.

I've counted the words, saved each one,
For when you walk through that door.
But now I see, it's not what's said, but done,
In love, actions speak more.

For in the end, it's not the words we say,
But the love we show, in the quiet world.
That's the play, the truth, the way,
In the quiet world, where love's unfurled.