I want to talk to thee

I want to talk to thee of many things

Or sit in silence when the robin sings his little song,

when comes the winter bleak

I want to sit beside thee, cheek to cheek.

I want to hear thy voice my name repeat,

To fill my heart with echoes ever sweet;

I want to hear thy love come calling me

I want to seek and find but thee, but thee.

I want to talk to thee of little things

So fond, so frail, so foolish that one clings

To keep them ours -- who could but understand

A joy in speaking them, thus hand in hand

Beside the fire; our joys, our hopes, our fears,

Our secret laughter, or unchidden tears;

Each day old dreams come back with beating wings,

I want to speak of these forgotten things.

I want to feel thy arms around me pressed,

To hide my weeping eyes upon thy breast;

I want thy strength to hold and comfort me

For all the grief I had in losing thee.

-Dora Sigerson

Nights in white satin... never reaching the end.

Letters I've written, never meaning to send.