As I put pen to paper

I thought reams would be wasted

In conveying my thoughts

A wish list, the fingertip,

Of all I wanted to say.

But the words ebbed sullenly in the distance,

Fearing the shore of your senses

And the guard there

Weary and waiting

For all signs of a storm:

She calls waves of innocence danger

Winds of change a ruse

Wants to keep love a stranger

Afraid of what falling 'in' might do.