The Metronome

It was a metronome to start, this thing we have uncovered.
A little box, of ticks and tocks, and bass lines undiscovered.

I tapped my feet and whistled soft,
you turned your form and tip-toed off.
The beat engulfed you and then me,
and mixed us up chaotically.

This song I've heard before you said, but I've never heard this verse.
Long before this score's encore, you've had the universe.

The piece approached it's first crescendo,
the heat burned up the innuendo.
You shook my form with mirthful wiggles,
I shook the bed with blissful giggles.

From underneath the linen sheets, you pulled an electric amp.
Painted red in bed it bled, out wishes like a genie's lamp.

I took your hand while the music was going,
you whispered the truth where the river was flowing.
The song reached it's bridge so we forded the stream,
how long does the concert run for in this dream?

It was a metronome to start, this thing between you and me.
But musicians sit in the orchestra pit who swear it a symphony.

It was a metronome to start, a beat the heart discovers.
Tick's and tock's of a small little box, where inside live the lovers.