Who's dreaming of my footsteps, and the paying back of debts,
and has me wandering lost, alone, upon deserted shores,
where neither god nor goddess has, an inch of terrain, blessed,
and all I feel is sorrow - sorrow for forevermore?
For those mistakes forgiven me, will still count in my score.
Mine to keep, forevermore.

long, top down drives
even shirtless tans
sweet strawberry kisses and
glorious watermelon stains

laughter lifting through the trees
glimpses of sun blest promises
sugar coated whispers
catching in the breeze

fruit bowls, waterholes
and refreshing icy poles
interlacing fingers share
starry nights and lazy days

You always perplexed me with notions of romanticism
like the lamps of Paris
as they cast doubtful shadows on cobble pavements
as the mysterious lull of midnight serenaded the air

Let me drive now, down alleys
of narrow nostalgia, under bridges
of notions, disproven, yet beautiful non-the-less
if only for this moment, this point in time

For to love is to lose
and I thought my stubborn fingers
would never part from your coarse skin
as we sat beneath the stars

Each year when summer heat abates
and frost turns forests red and gold
I know a familiar friend awaits,
a white haired guy who's beyond old.

He often joins me in some task,
like feeding cows or cutting wood,
he's there regardless if I ask.
Sometimes we walk the woods and brood.

Or we might sit before a warm hearth fire
and talk about the simple life,
the peace which all just men desire,
the precious love of a good wife.