Speak To Me Love

All of a sudden one day, I recalled a particular poem written by a good friend long ago, which had touched me then with its bittersweet message. I asked the original writer for permission to expand it into lyrical form, and here it is with its original title.

 

Speak to me, love, you never do
Aren’t all these flowers lovely, all pink, yellow and blue?
But I know too clearly what you always do
Just read your papers sipping my brew

Flowers will wither and looks will fade

Everything around us changes

Your silence remains the same

Maybe you don’t ever notice

But still I’ll be here

And perhaps one day you’ll say

Those words I long to hear

Every night as we lie together side by side
How it makes me so sad, you never realise
For you love me dear, but you never speak
Silent tears I swallow as I secretly weep

Dawn turns to dusk and night becomes day

Everything around us changes

Your silence remains the same

Maybe you don’t ever notice

But still I’ll be here

And perhaps one day you’ll say

Those words I long to hear

Bridge:
Softly she sighs and sits herself down
Filling his cup with her dark brew
Then with trembling hands she slowly place
The fresh flowers at his tomb

You don’t read your papers now, nor do you drink my brew

And you’ve been so fast asleep

These twelve years and always will

Now you won’t ever notice

But you know I’ll always be here

Maybe one day you’ll finally say

Those words I could not hear

Then perhaps one day you’ll finally say
The words I long to hear

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Filed under coffee, love, poetry

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