Silent Words

Through ages past and more to come Many words of love are spun, Their authors hoping to enshroud With vivid words, love's boiling cloud. And yet what do those words impart, To the innocent virgin heart? Like signs found from some long dead race, That hint at paths they cannot trace. What well-turned phrase, what image bright Can recreate climactic height? What words so sweet or spicy hot, Can bring to mind what taste knows not? The one who knows, though sweet of tongue, To virgin heart sings phantom song. The bud blooms into crimson flower Where seed was sown in earlier hour. To those who know, fine words remind. But all the rest, the words leave blind.