(SofiaD)
Not too long ago
you said to me,
"Hey, just call me friend."
At the time
I had no idea
what those five little words
would some day mean to me.
I just liked the way you said them.
Those five little words
held a future within them
promises of friendship
happiness and good times
to be shared between us.
So much love wrapped around
five little words
I was then,
and still am honored
to call you
Friend.
(^rhianon^)
DOROTHY IN THE WHITE NEGLIGEE
A phone call in the afternoon made her smile made her heart race with anticipation, of the night to come with the man she loves, her red-haired cowboy crossing the country in his eighteen wheeler, coming home. She must make herself pretty, it's been a long, long time. After days of smelling diesel fumes and watching straight white lines rushing beneath him, he'll want a rose-scented woman, curves barely visible beneath a white negligee. Quickly she bathes and dabs rose-scented perfume from head to toe, a little more on his favorite places. She puts on the white negligee she is now prepared, she is now ready. Pacing back and forth, back and forth in front of their bed she daydreams... she sees his hands, firmly gripping the steering wheel. His right hand, pushing the gear shift into a higher gear. His eyes, fixed on the road ahead, she hears him whisper, "I'm coming." "Me too!" she cries out, as she collapses upon the bed. Several hours later, the red-haired cowboy returns home and finds on the bed... sleeping peacefully... Dorothy, in the white negligee.
Heart-Quake
I woke up this morning and for the first time
in a long time I felt happy, content, and alright.
It didn't last long though, and the hurt, the loneliness,
and the soul consuming agony slammed back into my heart,
shattering my peace of mind... as the pain rumbled on.
Again... I am left broken and empty, unable to face
another day without you. They say the first big one
does the most damage... scares you the most...
and is always the worst.
Well, it's the aftershocks that are killing me.
(^rhianon^)
LADY OF THE DANCING WATER
Grass in your hair stretched like a lion in the sun
Restlessly turned moistened your mouth with your tongue
Pouring my wine your eyes caged mine glowing
Touching your face my fingers strayed knowing
I called you lady of the dancing water.
Blown autumn leaves shed to the fire where you laid me
Burn slow to ash just as my days now seem to be
I feel you still always your eyes glowing
Remembered hours salt earth and flowers growing
Farewell my lady of the dancing water.
(Peter Sinfield of King Crimson)