Felt, Not Said

How does one find words and terms

To express what seems the most firm

When you peer into a face

And all else is waste

That your mind refuses to confirm

When blueberry eyes pierce your very soul

And long brown hair takes over control

That a drawing so readily pulls you in

Negating that original sin

To find stories we all find so drole

Yet my humor will only carry so far

And one's fruits of joy may wane on par

A nuisance I may become

And that will be the sum

Of your happiness I seek following the star

How does a mortal a Siren serve?

Someone who will never get all she deserves

But struggle up Everest I will do

To gather ice for you

Once I gather my long-lost nerve

So, words escape this fleeting poet's mind

A way to describe such beauty is hard to find

I shall go with what the wolves have read

That some things must be felt, not said

And pray that I do not fall behind