Julie Rosenfield

My journal




Look at you, words

Scowling in corners

Hiding in cupboards

Why don’t you come when I call?

 * * *

How many of you would it take

20,40, maybe more

To say what he says in notes

To tell what his fingers convey

Dancing lightly across the piano keyboard

 * * *

You words, how quickly you run out.

You know who you are

Amazing, incredible, unbelievable

Astounding, and then what?

Exhausted so soon.

 * * *

His notes don’t tire like you

His quavers, crotchets, semi-breves

Whether soaring with elation

Meandering with melancholy

Or crashing down with a mighty boom

Effortlessly, they glide, weaving magic as they go.

* * *

Whereas you, words, are always hiding

“On the tip of my tongue,” they say

But not you, I don’t know where you go

Or where you’ve been this long, last year

* * *

I’m finished with you, words

I’ll have no more of you

Leave me alone for I have no need of you

For now I can just press the button and hear him play.

* * *



There are words I long to say to you

Speak out my truth

Say what I really feel

But I dare not

 * * *

There are feelings whirring inside me

Wanting to spill out

I keep them hidden

At what cost

 * * *

If I could, I would sing from the roof

I love you, love you


But I know I can’t

 * * *

I just have to carry them around inside me


 Like a precious gift

Wrapped inside shiny Christmas paper

Waiting for that one special day

When I can open it

And let the words escape

Like birds in flight

 * * *

Until then, I’ll be quiet


Smile secretly when they say your name

And hope.

* * *


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