I’m a tramp in a white dress
Lost in a blizzard
My gloves both have big holes
And my glass is half full
Because it’s alright
To go it alone
When the river runs wild
From the abyss of a true soul.
My legs have left from my mind
Oh Lord, this ain’t my time
I keep counting two by two
Until my sweet eyes turn blue
And fragile lilac leaves shake
In cold palms of my forgotten date
How sweet it once was here
Summer of harmony I’d hear
Spoken through my heart vines
Lost now, song number four’s lines
As Autumn’s candle blows clouds away
Sharpness enters into this day
At the cost of blue one cannot say
The geese should fly today.
But as Hermes doth say,
“Winter, come our way,”
So must we abide by nature’s law.
And here we are amidst the fray
Swirling leaves on an Autumn day,
And frost spreading it’s silver lining
Along the open grass
With little paw prints
Bustling here and there,
To prepare for Winter’s deep lair,
Shelter and warmth bites the air
Though Autumn’s wick doth get shorter.
Tangle me whole –
Fraying at edges,
Confused and scarred
Sacred and empty.
Yet water runs dry
And hallowed river banks
Leave tears running
Down my spine
Tangling me whole
Lifting me up and
Scraping my sides
With sandstone and thorns.
Let my ankles
Caress each meadow
And place my soul in the sky.
Would you be a heart that will call out?
Shoes so familiar
Like eyes closed into sunshine,
And memories that float into this blank space –
Too happy to change it –
For we’ve started to understand
That tomorrow never comes,
And all we can hold on to
Is the ball clanging around wildly
Inside what we close our eyes to guard against.
This isn’t a memory,
This is pure unabashed and secret dreaming…
A love that screams to come out,
And I’m walking through the madness
With a hope to one day find my way out.
A callused hand is my tomorrow;
You’re never far behind.
Leave alone the matted mess
That flirts with every question
For in the envelope of time
Was never sort of guessing, no,
All that was ever called
To surface of the law
Was packaged neatly, sorted, drawn,
And placed into a manilla – shut
Stamped with half ones love
I marked my diary with a black heart yesterday,
Signalling yet another loss of a piece of me
To a lancet, delicately embraced by a cadaverous hand
Tightly hemmed in mourning lace.
Upon my wrinkly pages I wrote of lament so thick
Leaves dropped freely in my eerie breeze,
And my nigh filled dipping pen
Opulently embarking upon saintly rites
Deep into the cold moon’s full embrace,
For this unsettled heart beat thick.