“it’s in the dark of
night, whilst laying in my bed,
the most insightful
notions swirl ‘round in my head…
profound; i reflect
at times i should be asleep,
i’ve found in
thinking of her, thoughts are always deep…
and i'll admit to
thinking about her a lot;
perhaps more than i
should, considering she’s not…
mine, yet i’d never
view her as a possession,
‘though i wish she
were is my averse confession…
i'm hesitant to
profess the feelings i own…
they remain hidden
from her; a secret unknown…
thus i'm forced to
contemplate while under cover;
how she’ll know my
heart without knowing i love her?
'cept she knows, just
views my words in another sense…
merely a phrase from
a friend, she sees no difference…
my "i love
you" isn’t one really meaning love,
at least not from the
one i have loving thoughts of…
am i wrong to believe
what i say should mean more,
especially when she’s
heard “i love you” before?
from those who
whispered it sweetly into her ears;
and as both proved
empty, they’d reduced her to tears…
but never mine, i
understand before i speak,
when they come from
me, they’re three words truly unique…
‘though the “more”
may be more difficult to explain,
it means when others fade
away, that we'll still remain…
having been a
constant since the day we first met,
i’ll always be by her
side so she not forget;
that even when she
can’t see it, in someone’s eyes,
she’s more beautiful
than even she does realize…
i’ve observed the
striking face and the gorgeous smile;
seen she’s flawless
with her clothes, her make-up, her hairstyle…
and i appreciate
every part as a whole,
but find her best
feature to be her caring soul…
sometimes i wonder
exactly how she sees me…
just as her friend?
well, our friendship happens to be,
a most valuable gift
to be able to claim…
ask her and i’m sure
that she will tell you the same…
yet we're destined
for more, at least i’ve always felt,
even if the chances
of an “us” have seemed svelte…
but that idea
concealed means i'm not understood;
so, like i said, i
think ‘bout her more than i should…
times when i imagine
she’s prone under a sheet…
dead to the world,
for two or three hours complete…
and dreaming lovely
dreams of the most wondrous kind;
ones that prove the
day's stresses have been left behind…
like the one where
she's wearing a white dress that flows,
her hands rest on her
arms as the wind gently blows…
brown eyes; a witness
to the most amazing view:
a beach of white sand
leading to the ocean blue…
and maybe, just
maybe, she’s placed me in a scene…
where we, together,
share a moment that’s serene;
peaceful; calm; a
setting we deem intimate bliss…
concluding nothing
before's been better than this…
no one, with whom she
or i had spent any time,
had produced an
ambience for us as sublime…
in my vision, ardor’s
finally by my side;
proof that when true
love is real, it won’t be denied…
but i know that's
just wishful thinking on my part…
the results of
evicting what lives in one's heart…
this ode penned is
emotion settled on a page;
and all sentiment:
payment of a lover’s wage…
these are the
thoughts in a moonlit room i conceive;
praying when morning
comes what she reads she'll believe…
i hope that i won't
discover my words betray,
a man who knows love
through what his mouth wouldn't say…”
"...life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness..." - thomas jefferson
