1955

I want to take life back to that World War Romance,

To return safe home in time for one slow dance.

 

I would have survived World War II, and come home to You.

We started our life together.

We bought a house after the War, I’m not away any more,

And we vowed to love each other forever.

 

I want to sit next to you on our wrap around porch while the family dog sleeps at my feet.

We watch the sun rise above our American Flag as the paper boy rolls down the street.

With faint fm static the radio is playing.

Our son runs from the field with a cheerful voice, saying:

The apples are nearly ripe enough to eat.

 

With a day off work I have no reason to worry.

Content in the moment, we have no wish to hurry.

You finish a book and add it to a shelf where there’s not much room for more

So we set it aside and flip through the letters I wrote you during the war.

 

We reach the middle of the day, and our kids want to see the town.

So we dress ourselves in our nicest set of clothes and drop the convertible top down.

While cruising along you stand on your seat. You smile with the wind in your hair

You give me a kiss for good times sake, and you laugh up a breath of  fresh air.

 

Everyone waves as we come to a stop.

Our kids run by the bookstore to the ice cream shop.

Hand in hand we saunter along.

Our son has a pocket full of candy.

We skip down the sidewalk to our favorite song

As our daughter holds laughter handy.

 

We drive back home to prepare for the night

And work in the garden till we run out of light.

After supper is through I clean up with you

And I come to realize… at the moment my whole life is right.

 

I want to take life back to that World War Romance,

To return safe home to a life long dance.

Let’s live like they did in Nineteen Fifty Five

And I promise you now, we’ll  keep romance alive.

Dream

I don’t really ever dream, and when I do, I don’t typically remember them; but last night I awoke at 3am with my heart racing, having slept through a nightmare.

I was visiting a strangers house to be given something he had to offer. I don’t recall what that was. I just remember going to his house, where I had to let him beat me, in order to receive what I had gone to him for. I willingly submitted myself to his torture, in hopes of being given what he had to offer; only to find myself later, trapped in his house with nothing. I awoke from the dream when the strange man came back, with a wooden beam in hand, to abuse me once again.

True Story.

I remember now, why I don’t typically dream.

 

Winter’s Fall

Remember then when I took your hand,

In November when we walked again,

Through vineyards and the orchard lands.

I wished my friend, it would never end,

And it hasn’t.

See, we are still walking if you can imagine it. 

You asked me where we were going, 

Following without knowing…

I didn’t have a clue.

So to you,

That night, I told ya:

“Wherever the left leads the right, and vise versa.”

When leaves fall from my heart, may they take me to your soul.

Because this Fall I fall for you, my Autumn Tree, my Doll. 

Moreover then, around the bend,

In December when we’ll walk again,

Through snow storms and the winters wind.

I hope my Friend, it’ll never end,

And it wont. 

There is always room to fear, but I don’t. 

You’ll ask me what I’m thinking

Peaking, blinking, speaking..

I’ll reply, shy:

“This is all my dreams are made of, 

This Journey, with you, my Love.” 

An August Day Away

It was the middle of August, on a warm summer’s day, When the butterflies carried me away.

Over wide open plains, with my hands on the reigns; for the impromptu holiday.

Up on their backs, with wings, I was carried. Out into fields and groves, with berries. 

They spoke in my ear, short tales of the year, and dropped magic like glitter with glee. 

They sat me in grass, at cool waters edge, and brought fruit in baskets to eat.

They dove ‘neath the water, the river to dredge, to leave sparkling stones at my feet.

I dug through the seashells and colorful rocks, and gathered my favorites to keep.

The air sang like church bells, the peak of the clock, the butterflies rose with a leap.

In a spiraling cloud, we took to the sky.

The trees all bowed, and started to cry.

The wind sang us home, with music anew.

I was never alone, for the butterflies knew:

It was I who they needed, I needed to be. 

Their magic was nothing with no one to see.

They left me but pleaded, for their own return,

To teach me of something, their magic to learn. 

In feeling their longing, I asked them to stay.

In my home, there, belonging; at least one more day.