From the heart.

He writes his silent words not yet spoken
But reads to me from the heart

We are those children at play
Though fully grown lovers
within the night

I imagine the mystery behind his eye's
That Gilmer often like the sun

And upon a summer evening
I imagine, his soul might come undone

For the night it sways him
Like the moon in all it's glory

I wonder if a kiss could speak
Would it tell the secrets
Of our love's story,

Silently he writes those words
My eyes have not yet seen,

but finger prints light up the night
Beautifully tracing all those places
his gentle touch has been.

nardine Sanderson 23/07/2015.