Never On A Sunday

Never on a Sunday{/center]


The Friday night pumpkin coach
That whisked you to my door,
Has come to take you home again,
To live your life
On your own once more.

It could have been a fantasy,
You being here, so close to me.
There was some kind of payment given,
And things felt as good as they used to be.

With silent encumbered emotion,
The bright magnetic attraction ignited.
With a spark from the fire of your flame,
This blind one was once again sighted.

The roller coaster ride
You've taken me on for years
Passed as a gentle amusement,
Until things became perfectly clear.

Silent still in darkness,
Surrounded from all sides.
Imagination rockets,
Again, comes surging the tide.

Awash, aghast, transfixed in the cyclone
Living in the moment for me here with you.
Forget what I've learned about purpose,
I know how it feels: alive, free, and true.

For twenty-four hours we lived
Just the way we wanted to be.
Transgressions, migrations, destinations,
Showed me the way to set my soul free.

Whisper to me in the dimness
In predawn's early light.
Ignore the stoic stone culprit
Who robs us of all our delight.

With dawn comes the light, stealing shadows.
The comfort of nakedness gone with the day.
The attraction binds strongest in moonlight,
As I wait for our next rendezvous,
another month's full moon away.

© Copyright 2004 a sunflower in Texas (UN: patrice at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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