Roses are red, violets are blue
But only when they have just blossomed anew
For you see roses wilt and the violets do too
If they lose all their petals, stick more on with glue

I had traipsed through the garden and wandered the halls
Hung all the flowers from hooks on the walls
And then I put roses in gaps in the stairs
Where in low light at night my foot slips and then falls

At this point the crowds came with lilac bouquets
The lit all the lamps and set candles ablaze
My house shone from tower to cellar, the better
And the lights didn’t go out for days

Then a man made of wax came wandering through
He offered me wine, and I asked about you
He told me you’d fled and were due to be wed
To a kind gentleman who wore only one shoe

The daisies are white and the tulips are red
But to you they were pink, or at least so you said
For these days you wear pearls and are always well fed
A rose pricked your finger, from then on you bled

Honey is sweet, but syrup is sweeter
Buying white silk which is sold by the meter
Adorned all in diamonds, you were quite a sight
When an angel appears all the doves rush to greet her

So nevermind what your car crashes into
Your hair is still gold and your eyes are still blue
Daisies still white, and lilies are too
Can’t turn back the clock, but I get déjà vu

I wish I had
As many words as you
To say what I mean
The way you do
‘Cause no one says my name
The way you do
Wrap your arms around me
Like the rings around the sun
And hold me closer
Lost in purple velvet kisses
If this is
All we get
I’m okay with that
‘Cause no one says my name
The way you do

I look to like
If looking likens likeness
To a likeness I should like
But your liking looks
Much more like a want
Than liking
Likewise I should like to look
For liking more that just anticipation
In you

Perhaps every fold of a slumbering valley
Every sombre bowing willow tree
Every shiny slate on a python’s armoured back
Are all just hieroglyphics
I have etched upon the wall
To make my platonian cave
Less drab

If the only real thing could be
The shape of your name
On my paper lips
Would that nothingness
Not be beautiful
After all?

I’ll be your watch
Your grandfather clock
The voluptuous shadows draped across a sundial

I’ll be the seductive whisper of an hourglass’s sand
Cascading with the every elegance
Of a pearl in a crystalline oyster

I’ll be the waltz the hours
The spiralling, somersaulting chorus
Of a ticking timepiece
I’ll take the every delicate step
A breaking mirror takes
Unravelling in sharply drawn thread

I’ll be the sun on your skin
The amber embrace
When the morning unfolds
And I’ll be the light behind your eyes
On silvery nights