Whistle me a tune
Harmonically syncing
melody with mine.

Play me a chord just
so you can hear what I have
been keeping inside.

She broke the gateway
to my heart, and let herself
flood all the way in.

Fragments of your soul
Still make me flutter every
time I think of you.

You don't have to be an eagle -
to see the white stallion in a field
of ponies - nor do I ever feel
like I was the person riding it,
like all of that power was mine -
to command.

But I was George Custer to your
finely edged arrow tips -
I was an easy target and I let myself
get beaten and bruised,
knocked from my mount -
Colliding with every single piece
of stone on the ground.

Cuts, scars, grazes, bruises -
But these stones do break bones,
and these sticks puncture my chest -
Yet this is a mere kiss on the cheek
to the words that cut me so, so deep.

I fell so hard into a bottomless pit
even the ocean hadn't explored
this washed out chest, praying to find
a person who's soul is just as kind.

Now I sit day by day - watching the stallion
in the fields, in all its glory, inside a story,
that I paint inside my proudest dreams -
getting just that little closer to what was,
I look forward to the days approaching -
for the day I get back on my stallion.

And to ride with you - in all of our glory -
inside our story - that we will paint
as we fade into the fields of our dreams.

She was born to be the only
woman and saviour just for me
Taking twenty three years to see,
Me laid alone,
hand near my phone
waiting for her message
in a bottle of notes.

Just praying my dreams
were all that they seem,
As we intertwine,
Love bursts at the seams.

Capturing our souls as we fly
over the humid moonlit sky,
Being able to wave goodbye
at all the other times we tried.

For you to finally be mine -
In heart, and in mind,
With joy, and with time -
Because this ink comes from my soul,
my princess, my life,
Can you still not see
we were destined to rise and shine.

Imagine the unimaginable lights -
that shine down upon me,
getting caught in my dreams by an angel,
a saviour, a guardian -
''twas a gift so unforeseen
the equilibrium still shakes me.

Because on this particular night
I was answered by a gentle touch,  
a gentle hand -
to finally become in sync with mine.

it was the day that wind stood still -
she captured it all, in her first breath
just so she could sweep me off my feet,
like tranquility had never seen
The big bad wolf.

Yet - the only thing I wanted
throughout the seasons,
was to capture the first winters snaps
from her nose -
I wanted to kiss her under the mistletoe
and steal her as my Christmas gift.

I want the summer sun to weld us together -
capturing unwritten memories like The heat that stirs between us is molten, bound together to set into stone.

I want our spring days to bloom -
Because the flowers weren't enough
beauty to see me through the season,
so I had to pick you from the fields -
stealing the wild flowers from your eyes.

but most of all,
I need you in those autumn months -
So I could get swept off my feet
only to be picked up by your hand,
Then placed in your heart,
For me to look forward -
to the rest of our days.

When the giant sleeps
he lays dormant, never to be heard.

He sleeps like a baby but breaths like a lion through the caves as it echoes.
But to the surprise of those glaring,
waiting for a beast to emerge from
this,
never seen reputation he has built.

'Tis only the gentle touch of his hand
that gave him his second reputation.

A soft one, a push over - but ha, I laugh in the face of unlaughable emotions, kind notions and love potions.

But that's just not me is it...?

I said to the wall in front of me
I needed to pass but,
to my amazement,
I could never even see,
a wall, a mere
mirage to the retinas deception.

But I question why I ever mention,
my thoughts and perceptions
like the worlds in one convention.

Despite being mouth to horse -
I always got stared at,
trampled down and taken for.

Ironically I'd say for granted,
but I'm left stranded, demanded around then commanded - like this sleeve hadn't already,
seen the washing powder one too many times.

All the lost faded faces I left on my brain,
all the sleepless nights,
I thought my help could turn me insane,
But as the day repeats,
I'm thinking... "Not this Again"
Not another sleepless night,
Just waiting the next day.

But at least I know
before I take my final breath,
It was all just a test,
until death,
And I don't live a day,
with a shard of regret.