You touch the spot on my heart that makes it beat.
It flutters for you and my life's blood flows.

I see your face when I am sleeping, 
awake you're my dreams come true.

You're a kiss in the moonlight, 
a walk in the rain, 
and every romantic cliche, 
that you could think to name.

There are no words to express all the love I feel for you, 
but as a poet I must try, 
until my days are through.

So I'll end on a line stolen,
repeating what you once told me true.

(You have bewitched me, 
body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.

I never wish to be parted from you,
from this day on.)

Thank You Jane Austin.

I love to walk through cemeteries
reading all the stones.

Not the names so much
as the stories that are told.

I really like the old ones
where the live oaks grow.

And the dead lie in shaded
gardens planted all in rows.

Marble angels look towards heaven,
with weathered wings and robes.

stone cherubs represent nameless babies
from a hundred years ago.

Fine cut pillars of the hardest stone,
mark graves of rich men who died alone.

and in the farthest corners
the small cement stones.

barely readable names
of people no one knows.

But the soil is no worse
here than it is over there.

And the angel in the center
just pretends to cry.

Honestly, she doesn't care.

Verse]
The world looks back through a motel window,
Just another town without a name.
The road is calling me,while I sit here waiting out the rain.


[Chorus]
Waiting out the rain
trying to regain
some perspective
I've lost along the way.

Waiting out the rain
Memories streak through my brain
Like the  drops against the window pane.
And suddenly I'm back again.


[Verse 2]
Looking at the world through
a motel window
Just another town without a name

Tomorrow I am leaving
Come hell or high-water
I'll be gone.
This vagabond spirit in my soul
Won't let me stay anyplace to long.

[Bridge]

So now I'm,

[Chorus]
Waiting out the rain
trying to regain
some perspective
I've lost along the way.

Waiting out the rain
Memories streak through my brain
Like the  drops against the window pane.
And suddenly I'm back again.


[Outro]
I'm back again
I'm back again
Waiting out the rain

Seems like I'm always
Just waiting out the rain
Waiting out the rain...

I hope there never comes a time

When the blackness in our minds,

surpasses grief and sorrow.

When rage begs not, to be contained.

And sadness no longer cares about tomorrow.

No longer cares, the circumstance.

Making good men heed the witching hours call.

When souls are lost,

and honor falls.

And love is just a word.

Once heard,

But a feeling no longer remembered

at all.

Their eyes met again for the first time.
Unkindled sparks smoldering for years ignite,
He kisses her and she burns.

Scared, scarred,
they kiss hard, her fire spreads.

From her cheeks, to her *****,
to her *****.

Until they are a pyre of love and lust,
Feeding and consuming each other
Like wind on Fire, love erupts!

And suddenly,
they dissolve into each other,
like a soft ash sigh,
gently flickering
against the dark of night.

[verse]
I sit by the window
play my guitar,
and think of you.
I wonder where you are,
Is it raining there too?

[chorus]
Sometimes it rains
Sometimes it pours
Sometimes the sad songs
just can't help anymore,
and my eyes fill with raindrops of you.

[verse2]
I stare back out the window
write a line or two.
If I could get this song on the radio,
Maybe you'd hear it too.

[bridge]

[chorus]
Sometimes it rains
Sometimes it pours
Sometimes the sad songs
just can't help anymore,
and my eyes fill with raindrops of you.

[guitar solo]

Yeah

[outro]
If I could get this song on the radio,
Maybe you'd hear it too.

Maybe you could hear it.

Maybe you could hear it,
Hear it through the rain.
I believe Baby!
Because Sometimes it Rains
but, sometimes,
sometimes
Sometimes the sun shines too.

[slow fade]
yes it does

Some people read my poetry
and think they know me.

Some wonder am I the romantic
I seem to be.

Is my life filled with passions,
and mystery?

Is it full of solitude,
Am I truly the lone wolf,
wandering the roads?

Am I carefree, charismatic,
mournful, spiritual, shy, decadent, tragic?

The answer is Yes, and No!

At times I've been all,
and even none of these.

Storyteller mostly, some fiction,
some reality.

And in the end you will see the me,
you want to see.

But that's ok, because,
I see you, and yes I even see me,
the same way.