A Garden of Love

I could gather an alphabet of love
And nurture letters in a garden green
And watch them form into soft amorous words
But would they transmute this base metal sun
To give a treasure more fitting my love?
But sometimes I do so despair of words
For they perish so very easily.

I would gather a garland of love poems
And watch them rhyme with ease and see them dance
And you would feel their textures on your skin
And colours would fall like the softest dew
They would rainbow your soul and shine on you
But sometimes I despair of these poemed words
For they perish so very easily.

lovely but sad. nice

Thank you, Avalive. Words are impermanent, and this reminds me of how temporal we are. Yet, though transition, decay and change may be sad, endless permanence may be sadder still.

I was thinking, perhaps the essence of the words may change, yet the words stay on. But then I realize there might come a time when some words will vanished permanently, when people are tired with them or when they loose their meanings (for the sake of efficiency).

Nice poem AP :nod: