Hot spring nights,
The world is flowers and pollen.
I walk down suburban streets and think of you.
I don’t know why my mind comes back,
Why you knowing me as I am is something I want to hold on to.
My thoughts jumble at the bottom of the bottle.
I wonder if I’ve had too much wine tonight.
Give me something to write about.
Give me that smile I know means if I haven’t fallen yet I will.
Give me something I can write about,
Give me roses and stories and anything to make my heart soar.
I want butterflies with you.
An Ode to the Impossible
I could write you,
A thousand love letters,
And it wouldn’t mean a thing.
Closed books and pressed roses,
Phone calls and that smile I know so well to mean butterflies.
There are so many things I wish for.
I have a talent for finding the impossible.
Silly Little Love Song
This is my silly little love song,
To the smell of the leaves in the air,
To the sunshine,
To the gold in my hair,
To the electric tumble of springtime,
To the feeling that there is something on the horizon to look forward to.
This is my ode to you.