You shelter me through tempest storms – indeed, you are my friend.

You never try to change my ways, instead you interblend;
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.

In spite of fashion's etiquette, your care does not depend
on ways I dress (or part my hair) - I’m not a passing trend,
and in my need you comfort me till twists and turns unbend.

We needn’t don thin masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.

At times I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquility which others can’t transcend.

You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout a fairyland
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in drifting sand.

With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and fearful feelings I possess you seize as contraband.

Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.

Not everyone is pleased, I’m told, that you and I are friends.
The world outside... they envy us... that you and I are friends.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends.