Juliet

Juliet, 

She is my poem, my muse, my love song
I sing it to her above me up there on her 
balcony
Under this full moon out from her bedroom
her hands fall upon the iron rail
my Shakespeare fails and speechless my words
run dry in my arid throat
words no longer rhyme as if the stop thump of 
my heart has forgotten how to start
She sings my name into the night
I find the pen is in my hand 
it is heavy with my sudden delight
to scratch to scrawl to write our names 
entwined on the white city walls
Juliet, I love you more than the stars
above, more than the flowers in the spring
more than the water in the well
more than the empty oaths I will tell
call to me and I will come to the
window where her lamp light breaks
on a stage, on the paper on the tattered page
her ink is scribbled on my heart
her lines are read written for her part
I life is a play and we stand now upon his whim
will William give me a chance like this again?