There is a quiet confidence in silence.
A deep reverie in modesty.
That stills the heart and distills innocence.
And in restraint proves to be free.
It reveals by hiding.
Unveils by veiling.
And when it speaks.
Grace and humility makes knees weak.
Stillness makes hearts tremble.
Shyness makes words stumble.
And like air your heart is stolen.
Simply by the words she is breathing.
Till you long to be her breath.
Her hand and heart.
Her home until death doth part.
No comments:
Post a Comment