Your pen on paper, a hesitant dance,
Pausing, starting, a hesitant chance.
When first you wrote, and the words took flight,
A letter to me, in the hush of night.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
Why on the roof, beneath the night's fire,
You write and you write, bathed in the moon's ray.
Memories bloom, in a dew-kissed sigh,
Loneliness lingers, as moments drift by.
Whenever your name, the pen did embrace,
Fragrance of blossoms, time could not erase.
Like a rainfall of petals, a floral art.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
The lamp we'd extinguish, before we would write,
The lamp we'd extinguish, before we would write,
Afraid of the shadows, the darkness, the night.
With hearts in our palms, we'd ponder and dream,
Whispering secrets, a hopeful gleam.
So many thoughts, we'd hold in our heart.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
The silence outside, through the window did peep,
The evening had vanished, while secrets we keep.
The night had all passed, and the words were all done,
But the heart's hidden longing, had only begun.
All the night has passed, without the sun.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
Your face, I forget, though I longed for its grace,
Your face, I forget, though I longed for its grace,
The one that I loved, with a poet's embrace.
The poems would come, in the envelope's fold,
A gift of sweet verses, a story to be told.
A gift of poems, in a love's embrace.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
Why on the roof, beneath the night's fire,
Why on the roof, beneath the night's fire,
You write and you write, bathed in the moon's ray.
The moon one day, might softly inquire,
The secrets you hold, the heart's desire.
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