watery eyes squinting against
the pink glamor of the setting sun,
casting marvelous streaks
of cherry cream soda foam
radiating from the heartfelt
warmth

dusk settling, a quiet raven
swinging in the swaying trees
and a fence line lining
the edge of evergreen forests
a white picket fence
cluttered with the ghosts
of memories

a pair of binoculars
held by a silent girl
olive and freckled
of the shower of tear drops
which cascaded from those nights
of aching compassion

facing the other side
solitude presence of one
walked of a thousand steps
back splayed by the salty foams
spat by the restlessness of the sea
an umbrella clasped in his grip

the rain drizzled, throwing
the pink sunsets into arrays
of sweet, sweet melodies
the girl of binocular
and boy of umbrella
a picket fence in between

a relief from destiny,
a rain check into reality
figures of speech echoing
slurring syllables
recounting marbles
that used to roll off
from their laughters
on lovely nights

a girl of binoculars
and boy of umbrellas
dreamt of once a meeting
of one such like this
the raven cries
fear not, deal not
what has there
to be done
when the pink
ceases to refill
your sweet dreams

and the girl smiled
the boy climbed over
the white picket fence
and held her hand,
holding the umbrella
to keep their warmth
sheltered deep within

the girl picked her binoculars
held it close to her pretty cheeks
above her lips,
navigating sights
knowing their memories
will far exceed than that
of the white picket fence

Rolling hills and picket fences
Baby I’m coming home to hold you in my arms
I know it’s been far too long
Baby I hear your prayers at night
Don’t you worry
I will be home soon
Rolling hills and picket fences
The sun is setting
  but baby please don’t cry
I will be home to wipe away your tears and to silence all of your fears
Baby just trust me one more time
Can you hear me yet?
Rolling hills and picket fences
I know it hasn’t been so easy
Us being so far apart
But listen closely the window
Because I will home to hold you tonight
Just keep holding on for me babe
Rolling hills and picket fences
I’m coming home
Rolling hills and picket fences
I’m coming home