In the quiet of the evening’s gentle sigh,
Their words danced like shadows on the wall.
Two poets, bound by love’s intricate tie,
In a world where echoes of their voices call.

Sylvia’s whispers, soft as the morning dew,
Painted skies with hues of longing and despair.
Her heart, a fragile vessel of truths she knew,
Sought solace in the depths of poetic air.

Ted, the storm that roared with untamed might,
Crafted verses with nature’s wild embrace.
In his eyes, the ferocity of the night,
Yet deeply entwined with love’s gentle grace.

Together they wove a tapestry of dreams,
A symphony of passion, pain, and art.
Though time has parted their entwined streams,
Their legacy remains, bound heart to heart.