Words
Trying to find the right words
The place and the time. . .
To speak my mind
But silence is art
As the pendulum swings
We chip away time
Words keep me waiting, but never arrive
Yet patience is art
Time is illusive to tell
Words are evasive to spell
Love we describe it as well
As we can
Time will sculpt her own voice
Love will shape and refine
Words that read volumes between the lines
As life becomes art
Time is illusive to tell
Words are evasive to spell
Love we describe it as well
As we can
As the pen becomes mute
I can’t force a rhyme
Till hearts rhythm in . . .
Time is illusive to tell
Words are evasive to spell
Love we describe it as well
As we can
Art is a subtle exhale
Breath draws the ink from the well
God is the author
And we of His hand
Life has no interest in hell
Fear is a lie to dispel
Truth we discover as well
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