chris frank

The same sun

 

The space beside him is for another

A modern Helen, bathed in white

Beyond his reach this girl is laying,

The same sun, a different world

 

The girl lies back gazing skyward

She feels the sun and knows he\'s there.

In her head she can hear his couplet

On her neck she can feel his breath

 

Turning, sighing he looks to see her,

It\'s just a mirage, she is not there.

Lying back he looks up to the sunshine

He sees her face, her golden hair 

 

Stilled by heat the girl lies quietly,

All around her stone walls soar

She can walk around them, leave their safety

But they fail to hold her anymore

 

Breaking out brings their ruin

The stone walls fall in the baking sun

The girls white dress shines, her skin is golden

She smiles as she builds her secret dream 

 

He waits to know in careful silence

Not knowing how their secret forms 

Like Paris he risks so much to see her

With eyes that open a thousand doors.  

 

Meeting first their embrace is arkward

Her beauty hides a shy refrain

His arms grow strong, enough to hold her

His fingers trace her neglected lips. 

 

The sun has pulled these two together

Two bodies, two souls, an unknown bond.

His words, her beauty, a weaving journey

Under the same sun, the same shimmering world.