If music be the food of love
I wish to hear more.
Louder and Louder
Rising to crescendo.
Loves orchestra, wind and strings
Timpani and bass bassoon.
Conducted by the moon
Music to accompany our duet.

Written in the stars
Lines in the milky way.
Falling from the sky
Butterfly and owl the notes.
Natural music, soft, sensual
Likened to Pans’ pipes.
Enchanting, delighting
Moving us to Fly.

Playing tunes on nakedness
Whispering sweet delights.
Hearing rhapsody on the wind
Hark, it is loves tune.
Larks cannot sing so sweet
Nor any bird alive.
Music comes from the heart
Deep within our breast.

The beat from our hearts
Given and true notes.
For our ears alone
Can you hear, can you hear.
The crescendo
Lessening all fear.
Silencing all doubt
The music of our love.

Tis' sad that composer
Trumpet nor Lute.
Harp and Viola
Guitar nor accordion.
Piano and Violin
Organ nor Flute.
Paper and pen
Cannot hold this tune.

You move me hearing
The sweet music.
Emanating from your mind
Your very being.
Trembling with joy
Resonating, reverberating.
You play it on my ribs
To my very core.


love poetrymusicwings series

◄ The Robins Nest

Living with a Self Harmer ►


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