Saturday, December 02, 2006

our door

think of ice cream, think of cookies, think
of cakes that soar with cremes, may be ices,
carved like angels, with the word of God engraved
speak of lollipops, and taffies, stretched
with laughter in the night, sing a jingle,
soft sweet ditty, and a winsome little tune

dream our cottage, white and yellow, with
a gated fence around, fields of daisies,
rings of poppies, climbing roses up and down
we'll have a fountain in the garden, and
a faun beside a spring, so sleep your sleep
let the day be on its way, it can not

help you now, for it holds shadows making
mysteries, it holds promise long unkept
there are no gifts within its hours, as
the clocks take time away, and i have no
strength to stay here, my path has made
a turn, i am bound by spells that know me

and they know me all too well, so i'll be
just a dream gone roaming, taken sudden
from your bed, sitting in your window
watching you with care, and if you must
remember, as lovers sometimes do, then
please remember that life is folly,

joy a passing turn of air, kisses bold
and pocked with passion find their ransom
with your tear, and if your heart can
find a holder, then you're lost forever more
so sleep your sleep, and let the day be
on its way, then you might feel my passing

whisper, and the closing of our door

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