Music Box

Yellow mustard bushes seed,

white Calle lilies growing free.

Clouds that move so quickly past,

warm magic evenings here at last.

Enchanted by sunsets bright,

moonlight on swing sets soaring so high.

Fragrant night jasmine in bloom,

magnolia trees so giant, loom.

Sounds gush out of the guitar,

piano keys singing back from afar.

The candlelight's soft low glow,

in a house old as memories.

Around record player spins,

your ruff hands on my smooth soft skin.

Vintage dress hits wooden floor,

my breath catches begging for more.

Painted eyes open so wide,

windup toy never quite unwinds.

Muffled sounds by heavy doors,

words stand still but our bodies roar.

The little deaths cloud my thought,

my rational now very lost.

Perfect as a summer dream,

that lost chance can now never be.

Yet the flowers still remain,

dull tarnished antique silver vase.

My heart waits there, can’t let go,

haunted stares from that old window.

Tear-soaked pale-warn yellow sheets,

cling to that 4-post canopy.

Waiting there eternally,

my fantasy won't let me sleep.

Memory a foolish wish,

once was tied to my happiness.

Maybe somewhere down the way,

in memory my dream will fade.

You will find me there perhaps,

our passioned souls joined then at last.

We will stay there in that trance,

Forever lost, in our private dance.