He doesn't have a lot of money
But he's got just enough time on his hands
And his hands
Are soft and skilled and soothing
When they brush across the apples of my cheeks

Wherever I am with you, that's what I'll call home
And I know my walls are tall but they're old
And they're crumbling
Pack another bowl in my piece. Spend a little more time with me please... Don't go.

Can I sink into your spirit
Can I soar inside the place where you feel safe
I'm tired of being sick of the cold, Hold me Closer.
Just like that, as if you always have.

On a balmy afternoon,
In the whisper of tall grass,
And faint sigh of breeze-stirred trees;
I feel His presence.*

~Hilda~

(the city had fought the fortnight before)
fire burned through the little skirts
and plastic lunch boxes
carrying the nourishment of our future
doctors and worldshakers—

                                 Future
tax paying Americans
And beacon of the nation.

Wide awake, in the thoughts of a light bulb,
(Where sidewalk stairs politic with the devil,)
A raindrop fell and whispered to the asphalt,
“Tell me what you know about happiness…”
And somewhere, in the middle of a pineapple parade,
A Pepsi can smiled and danced the night away with Nyquil labels.

Is it odd to believe in fairy-tale love?
Is it impossible to achieve it?
If I told you I had found it
Would you believe it?
To me it wouldn't matter,
If you chose to believe me or not,
Because I know and he knows we're special;
Fairy-tale love is what we've got.
Separated by a hundred miles of concrete
And no car to travel the distance,
But he kisses me everyday.
The "how" doesn't make a difference.
We never go to sleep angry
Even if we're up all night
Most of that time's spent reminiscing
Or dreaming of what the future'll be like
Puppy love is what some people call it
But we're not naive to love's pains
We're finding a happily ever after
With whatever pages of it remains.