shaded love

our love is in the shadows
in the secrets of the night
where silence speaks forever
in the absence of the light,
and where words are never spoken
and yet thoughts are clearly seen
through the eyes that serve as keepers
of the concepts of a dream.

now if words were to be uttered,
then the dream would be so shattered,
that the love would fade like twilight,
though her ghosts would roam the night;
but when silence is the pathway
in whose shadow there is wonder,
then our love is ever treasured,
ever guarded, never lost.

so preserved and yet so fragile
is our sharing of that shadow,
that the shades must soon be drawn
whenever bastard boys are watching
from the bicycles of bandits
as they bluster for adventure
and occasionally descend
upon the prize they had been seeking,
where no prophet, nor impostor,
neither sorcerer nor fiend
will overlook the frankly wondrous
in the jewelry of the dream.

they will romance the sensational,
and glorify the glamorous
ensuring we be printed
on the papers of the hungry–
that the wonder of our secret
might be flaunted in cartoon
and made trivial in rumour
and made decadent in scorn.

therefore light the candle sooner
and let fall the shadow longer
and please draw the shade lest twilight
bring the bandits to the prey–
and please speak a little clearer
through the music of your silence,
so when no one else can see us
we might fall upon each other
and be sure that we are blooming
in the blossom of our shadow,
where unspoken our sheer faithfulness
will never, ever die.

Copyright © 2006 by Andy Pope

 

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