No Words Are Needed

Her popping up a question, 'Do you still write poems?'
is like opening up a path to a river that could lead into some falls,
'I still do' was my reply.

I could hear the rushing waters off a cliff, as she moved around
to peer at me asking 'Do you still write about me?'
'I still do' was my reply.

'All the words you wrote,' she said, ' and the love
and passion in them, are for no other but me?'
Yes, and they still do.

I can see the rushing river towards the falls, when she asked,
'Will you fall with me once more to unknown depths?',
No words are needed for a reply.