Quiet Things

I love the quiet things -- The soft chuckling of a little brook As it staggers through a cool dark forest, Pregnant with silence.

I love the tap-dancing of rain On the crown of my dripping hat, As I walk along a near-deserted street, Watched by the mist-enshrouded lampposts.

I love your quiet smile; The silent communion of our hearts, When we sit gazing into the glowing fire, Our dreams dancing in its flames.

I love your sympathy, Unspoken, yet saying so very much, When the day has dealt me weariness and care. Ah, Love, I love your quiet love!