Minus 6: Jitters of half a dozen

The moon has been written often,
its compared to more than once,
but this paper I have soften,
with inks and words that dance.

why do they dance and twirl,
why do they never stop for awhile,
as if they mock how I feel,
the turbulence, they wont die.

Die away and give way to calmness
but the heart desist to be calmed
it grows every second restless
it beats and beats in alarm.

Flowers they bring colours,
the sun, it brings warmth,
Love's one of life's wonders,
anything, a man for her doth.

There is nothing more to say, to write,
Words can't explain, they've no might,
What comes, will come alright,
and I will carry the ring to her, through day and night.


Less than a week.