(our) music dances (part I)

chadwick

all songs remind me of you
with his or her voice carrying me far off
down low or high
and above mingling green grasses with wildflowers
or white frozen covered peaks all are touching and as one
paintbrushed strokes or guitar songs and our home

all i can do is go to there
play new games with you the old way
as our thumping eyes touching inside singing along
radio nights hot running deep
radio mornings cold running shallow
everything inbetween all is us
all ours

and the opposites are tree leafs dancing around moon courtships
and therein dreams we are and found we are not
this privacy a windy soft warm night granted to us
the open or locked closed gate and trailmaker as if a blacksmith hired as our personal shining starbelt maker creating romance or goblets
wine filled near and plenty
yet grapes are never crushed
grapes are never plucked
vines always shone
and bouncing their way to and from above
that somehow has only allowed us what is inner to selves as lovers
two as one or raindrops fall
we do not come up for air but rather we go deeper
you squeeze my hard with your wet as I solidly leak
this our honeybee making the wildflower and mountainside song on replay as if mother nature held everything is her giant hands
you in mine i in yours
as the wet waterfall requires our mouths to give to her dampness love tasting of sight
and of crystalline breezes on the cheeks of children dancing to the sound of the village violin players or the pianos going far away catching the traveling song of distance, loneliness and the never forgetting kiss

justam

This is certainly in your good old style.

supersonicyears

lovely