When the wind unveils her pride I will not know.............
Give me warmth in a close and quiet port with a song unwritten So when the wind unveils her pride I will not know I will dive headfirst into uncharted waters Write the words to the song With my harp of gold
Send me a reason to leave my warm and quiet port with you So when the wind unveils her pride I will stay warm We will dive headfirst into uncharted waters With a new song unwritten In both our arms
Promise me I will not long for the song unwritten I wrote alone When I leave my warm and quiet port to write for you Then I will dive headfirst into uncharted waters Write the words to a new unwritten song You can sing too
Our song will hold a thousand nights of memories of bliss To keep us warm when the wind unveils her pride We will sing each word together in harmony While we dive headfirst into waters With our warmth inside
There is a part of the writer's heart that no lover will ever know, ever appreciate, ever share--often, even if that lover is also a writer.
And what of the lover's life, how much will a writer really be able to truly involve him or her self in that? We want our mates to value and be part of what we do, but what we do is frequently all-consuming. Even if we manage every sincere intention to be wholeheartedly devoted to another, ultimately, there is only one lover whom we always desire and to whose arms we inevitably run--it is that constant communication with our own souls; endeavoring to clearer and clearer express what we have inside.
Sorry, Neva, but the sweet longing inherent in your thought-provoking poem brought these words to my mind.
Love the poem.
I am just amazed at your thoughts Neva...they seem to flow endlessly and tirelessly...one can see your depth and feel that creative imagination of yours...you will not tire us that is for sure my poetic friend... *****
Hello, I am Neva, 4i, from Atlanta, Georgia.
My latest book and videos:
My latest book - Mailing Letters to the Moon
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