like a hollow version of bobby dylan
she peeks out into the alley
before dashing out to
dance in the ***** rain
its grey face stains the asphalt
with strange designs
i wait for her to grow weary
before i try to rescue her from the wet alley
someday she will get to replay
her misspent youth
but not today
the agents of mystery remind me
she sits on her college textbooks
and towel dries her golden dreadlocks
as she excitedly tells me of her adventure
of how light she felt
as the ***** rain danced with her
how it romanced parts of her
that would make a good girl blush
she finally slows down with a great big yawn
put her to bed
wrap her up in my loving arms
and gave her a lullaby in perfect country english
she will cherish this
like she cherished the ***** rain
seeing things in our moments
that no-one else can ever know
magic is your lovers eye