This is my confession,
for I can’t sing a note.
But I can write a love song.
You can sing the music
to my lyric in your heart.

Love is not a word
that I choose lightly.
I love my friends.
I love my family.
But this is not the same.

Love is a flower,
packed tightly in it’s bud,
each petal a different love,
waiting to taste the sun,
waiting to see the air.

As it blooms,
it reveals a deeper core.
The petals falling away
until nothing is left
but purity, essence.

There is a tie that binds us,
a bond that permeates
our two hearts.
It can bend and stretch,
but it links us to each other.

And though time and distance
may stretch our hearts apart,
a smile, a word,
a simple touch
will bring them back together.

My hand is here love
ready to lead you where it will.
For dancing, laughing, loving.
You only need take it,
and we’ll be off.

Put your hand in mine, love
we can take our time.
Whisper to me what you will,
Sing to me what’s in your heart.
Show me, show me.