I’m a bit of a summer storm, and you’re a cool spring morning
I chase horizons and leave footprints of rainbows; I’m fleeting and lost
But you, you can rise to my lightning and make sense of thunder
And in the end, you calm the very air and ready yourself
To watch young blooms. I know I can be loud,
But I’ll gladly quiet to hear your perfect tune.
I was mostly barefoot and wild, an unkempt child with
A penchant for fancy, and you like how raindrops are
Both morse code and poetry, and since I’m ready
To believe anything, it seems only natural that you’d
Want me
To be your queen, Though I’m much too shy
To preen and I haven’t the faintest idea
What royalty actually means
It doesn’t matter.
It’s only half a dream
But it’s beautiful, isn’t it?
We’ll host the loveliest parties, pick out the latest fashions, mingle with the guests and prevent them from stepping on each other’s toes –
We could sleep in silk sheets; I could learn to be sexy and chic
For you, for me, for this strange life we’re living,
But on weekends, you must run away with me –
I love you, fiercely, like Mondays, summer haze, chilly morning rays
And every day in-between
So I will calm my storming, at least sometimes
And offer tender temperance to the worst of it
But Darling, you must, you must please
Run away with me –
To the mountains, the forest, hell even the backyard
Where worms and moss and birds reside
Where mushrooms grow and toads try to sing
Where hills and valleys take your further and further away from all that was safe and predictable
We’ll be back Sunday evening, I promise, but please, for a few hours, let us pretend
That we haven’t the faintest idea where we are, or how to get back, and we could be on the brink of some brilliant adventure?
And Darling, if we cannot get lost
– or must not run wild –
Then we must at least go dancing.