Feelings Without Words
by Peter S. Quinn - April 8, 1999
In my heart, you bear the sweetest of colours:
the fire of each bloom that grows again fresh,
the certain things that are of day and night:
my soul with shades of new-born, from my flesh.
I shall love each bloom that your heart carries
and flowers, that are dark, tender and white;
words can't make difference to love from our body,
nor fragrance of nightly flowers that hide..
For each time I tell you: I love you dearly,
because there aren't other ways to tell you this:
each arrow from your heart has given flowers
so strait to my feelings, to see more clearly
and each minute, hour with you - a dear wish,
always with love it continues and towers.
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