Bouquets of Words and You

the alphabets dance
strings of them
hung on the walls
of my creativity
 
not all coherent
a little askew
at their best
but I did try, truly

not all bouquets
are flowers
some mere leaves
but its ribbon tied

its not difficult
to discern, right
between well worn
expressions

it just words after all
you'll never knock
on my door
with words for flowers

I'll never hold
your hands
to cross the street
grey hair wet with rain

Its just words
held together
in knots of poems
for you.