By the sea
I'd grown to think love just a lie,
or fairy tales that don't exist,
until she came into my life
and found that her, I can't resist.
To gaze into her eyes and see
reflected back all that she is.
To hold her hands and draw her close,
to taste the freshness of her kiss.
Soft shivers, tingles in the night,
the sighs and longing that I feel,
tell me that love is not a lie.
Each fiber tells me that it's real.
But if it be a fairy tale,
then her, my dear sweet princess be
and I her knight, always on guard,
that no harm will she ever see.
Of Ireland and wee folk, too,
so many people that we meet
and I chanced to meet only her.
I've found in rhythm hearts can beat.
Soft whispers in the night we speak
and tell of things from others kept,
of silly things and dreams we have,
of hurtful things and tears we've wept.
Each word, more precious than the last.
The ones to come, more precious still.
Each day we speak, but not enough.
At night more words flow from my quill.
With candles burning in the night
and pushing darkness far away,
I find I still have more to write,
more words to her I need to say.