And in the moments before she sleeps,
when thoughts begin to feel like dreams,
she often wonders to you.

She's a painter with her words,
but a clown with conversation,
so she stumbles through to give and take,
lost in ill translation.
So what she meant to say,
when she asked you every stupid question,
was she wished you longed to hold her close
with zero hesitation, and...

no ****** connotation.
Just the comfort of your touch.

Looking at the ground,
She sees more beauty
Than she ever could have
If she had looked up.

Eyes trained on her on her toes,
She understands,
Beauty is in the person
Who is seeing.

And her beauty
Is just a little
Different
Than everyone else's.

A long long time ago
Before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the airbase in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.
When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship
and found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.
when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.
Follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.

Forever have I promised
To from you never sunder
And though this promise I will keep
I have begun to wonder.

I wonder just what it'd be like
If for all my life I hold your hand, 
For all my life could be a long time
I wonder if that you could even stand.

If I hold your hand past "down to the wire"
Through the sniffles and the cough
Would my hand begin to tire,
Could it possibly fall off?

Even if my hand could get dismembered
I'd hold you nice and snug
For this you should remember
If I lose my hand I'll give you an eternal hug.

But then I begin to wonder
If I hold you close for eternity
Would our heart beats sound like thunder
Would we manage to keep on standing.

Yet even if our legs turn to jelly
And like pudding become our thighs
Nothing will stop me from saying "Hello Beautiful,"
Nor from looking into your eyes.

And this I know about my eyes,
They could never become weary
If all they saw was beautiful you,
Yet I know they may get teary.

But there's one thing I'll always wonder,
How could I be so blessed to have you,
And even though I often blunder
I know your love will always stay true.

7/20/12