Blondes and Guns (day 522)

A romantic getaway that lends itself to a high action thriller
One of those old ’70s flicks that fills in with browns
Flowy Farah Fawcett hair that shimmers in the sun
And blows in the wind from the partially opened window

A silence that is foreign amongst the wooden paneling
Floral bedspread with a mysterious darkness coming from the underneath area
The type that really makes you genuinely scared to look under the bed
Duty for only the strong to survive

Waves in the distance, too far to be heard
But glimmering in the distance as the canvas lawn-chairs squeak under the weight
Seagulls busily spread their wings across the horizon
Sunscreen smelling strong around the edges of this cold tasty beer

It’s a romantic scene in our high action thriller
The rare moments the cars are ignored and domination plots are set aside
An obligatory scene but oh so necessary to sway the testosterone
Since blondes and guns make the world go round

Battered Soul (day 427)

I’ve battered my soul upon the rocky shores of innocence
Sun bleached reconciliation laid to waste
Heart spilling it’s spoils upon the rocks
And the mighty waves relentless damage breaking bones

There is peace then in time
That rolls along deeply like the rhythmic paddle
Striping through the disturbed sea
In song, everlasting

Pining sailors lost far our in the sea
Stranded on lonely islands with lots of life
Wiled beyond the bayou to the open seas
By the naked goddess swimming

Then, in moments of clarity
The seasons turn to spring
The hand is then set free
And all of the sorcerers relax their hand of power