His Words Her Notes

As I sit here and play with these words,
You sit and play those strings,
My words whisper sweet nothings into your ear,
Which you turn into the lovely melodies for my heart.

As I fall deeper and deeper into this trap,
Your melodies begin to attack,
So I write quicker, slicker, and wittier words,
That burn beautiful sonnets in your heart.

These sonnets require lyrics, so the pen must go to the pad,
The bow to the strings,
Our souls to the fire,
This is the crossroads where our hearts meet,
This seems to be the end,
But the journey has just begun.

Words become things of sweet memory,
As the notes become a sweet symphony,
Though 1000 words has never been spoken,
And 1000 notes have never been played,
But they call out to us,
Suspended in time,
Holding a secret,
That will hold us forever.

Our evening idn't over yet,
It's been 8hours now,
As we begin to share,
My words tell of all my heartbreak and broken promises,
Your notes of all your fears and lies,
Music and time,
Is what we have now,
It's our sanctuary.

Even though it really late,
I still must ask "Do you really have to go?"
Why can't things remain this simple?
Do they really have to change?
These endless questions with no true answer,
Are really scaring me,
But,
Whatever lies beyond this morning,
Is a little later on,
Regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all,
Nothing's like before.

We have grown older,
Hoprfully wiser,
But or passion is a fire,
Our music causes us to fly higher,
And we hit the point,
Where everything is sweet,
Your strings ringing,
My words singing,
Riding on silver wings,
Elevating us to our final stage,
As much as we hate ti end this now,
We realize we must take our final bow.