In the symphony of love songs, where notes of ecstasy harmonize with the fast-paced rhythm of passion, I find myself longing to compose a melody that transcends the clichés. Yet, as I grasp for the pen, I realize that my song would echo the familiar refrain of tears, screams, and disbelief. It would be a ballad of laughter and nostalgia, wrapped in the bittersweet inability to utter those three simple words: “I love you.”
For how can I capture the essence of love in mere verses, when it is a journey that defies explanation? It is the quiet moments of understanding, the shared glances that speak volumes, and the silent reassurance of presence that truly define love’s symphony.
In my heart, there is a melody waiting to be sung, a song of love that transcends the ordinary. It is a melody that whispers of patience and acceptance, of resilience in the face of adversity, and of the profound beauty found in vulnerability.
So, let us embrace the imperfections of our love story, for it is in those moments of raw honesty that true connection is forged. Let us dance to the rhythm of our own unique song, knowing that even in the silence between the notes, our love speaks volumes.
And though my love song may never be written in the grand crescendo of a sweeping ballad, it will be sung in the quiet moments of everyday life, in the gentle touch of a hand and the warmth of a smile. For love, in all its complexity, is not found in words alone, but in the silent symphony of the heart.
Categories: Culture, Humor, identity, mental health
psychologistmimi 
Any day you want you can lift up a paraphrase and love it as your own. Didn’t Donovan say, “Clichés came softly into my window today. When you make your mind up/ to forever/ be kind… I’ll tell you right now:”
Everyone claims to be a singer-songwriter and there are too many lyricists(poets) in need of a compatible song writer. And which do you deign to be, pray tell. Speak now and coin or forever hold your horses in mid-stream. Dare I say:
Coin A Word For Me*
Once a gem,
the word’s been scrubbed
like a pejorative stone
in a teary creek, an
old river gone shallow
Oh let us coin, my lucidove,
our ever word, because
we’ve a tender ‘ove of us effusive
an edgyove, a ludelove
a kissove missive:
folded paper plane that soars
but gems can be dreamed of again.
In the journeyove dream
I awoke happy, enveloped in you
under’ove covers
Enraptured in the blankets
of home
with you
of you
Our embrace is
the brightness
of us
with us
We are
the morning together
together lovidove
An awakening
is here to be
for real
at home
peaceful passion
satisfaction day
not dreaming
but being
in the lightness
of us
with us
we are warm
being the morning sun,
like banners waving
playfully above
the river of ‘ove
extremely rippling,
our streaming
child to the river
Ripples of the day
we stream
like banners waving
playfully above
a gentle brook
child to the stream
The child’s babble
joyful enough
to be a gurgle
in a float-along morning
We splash along
embraced
by immersion
and the kiss of the day
fantastic
better than a dream,
my lucidove
* Douglas Gilbert
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