little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

Do you find yourself holding on to nothing
With absolutely everything you have
So afraid that you will lose
What you never had

Are you just letting go of everything
You’ve found so easy to obtain
While crying out for that
You wouldn’t want if gained

Take a look at what you have
Listen to its song
Perhaps you’ll find it’s the very thing
You’ve wanted all along

If you find you’re never satisfied
With anything you hold
Then your heart may be singing
The saddest song of old

I have never wanted anything more
In this life than I want you
But there is such a sweetness
That I want to keep so true

I want to sit and hold your hand
And look into your eyes
Nothing else in this world
Could make me more satisfied

I want to walk in the rain with you
We need never say a word
When our hearts speak
They speak as one
And everything is heard

No, I have never wanted anyone
The way that I want you
But my passion I will put aside
To keep from ever losing
This sweetness
That I've found with you

I can hear the song of the trees
It floats from high above my head
Whispering through the rippling leaves
Being also heard by the birds perched
As they begin to dance from branch to branch
And then the birds also join in the song

Listen to the story of the ancient Oak
You shelter in the branches to hear it told
Of a long time ago when fields grew wild
Of the changing centuries that have passed on by
How the Oak has lived through long forgotten battles
It is a story shrouded in a history of hidden lore

Changing colours as the very leaves start to paint
How many artists have these trees always inspired
The Mountain Ash and the Cedar so royal
The tears unseen from the Weeping Willow
The solitude of the lonesome Pine
Gothic secrets in a cemetry of the Yew

I planted a tree to remember those gone by
Knowing as it grows, so their legend lives again
How they changed my life by their own
So now I hope that their song will be sung
Even when I am gone and long forgotten
And like that very tree, I know they will live on



copyright Chris Smith December 12th 2009