We were singing silly songs that day
They were bouncing around in the air
We kept colliding with notes and words
They refused to let us remember or care.
As the night grew darker, we lost ourselves
In stories of love and glorious pain.
The silly songs preached their dated sermons
But we believed them all the same.
Her hand in mine felt calm and true
She gave it no thought though it was a first
And I felt rather serenaded and lax
Interpreting even the silliest verse.
We sang along, those notes and words,
And heard ourselves over the crickets’ chant.
And then this rather strong-ish tune
Made sense and senses nonchalant.
We halted our steps, came face-to-face
and sang of eternal love’s worldly fate.
The tune plucked wild our fluttering hearts
A filmy crescendo it did create.
So close now, wrapped in silken melody
The overt lyrics made rebellion rare
I gave in, and gently brushed her cheek
And removed some songs stuck in her hair.
She smiled as the cadence skipped down her back
A shy shiver of sorts ran up her spine.
I felt her surrender; she stared into my eyes
Willing me to make her symphony mine.
And so we sang into each other
Our notes were effortless in harmony divine.
A concerto of convergence, so perfectly pure
Each note and word reverberated inside.
And when we withdrew and the chords took hold,
We knew the songs could not have lied.
They rightly say that the symphony sublime
Needs not words, not notes, not rhyme.
Nor Haydn nor Bach could hope to contrive
The music that flowers when lovers combine.