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