We Must At Least Go Dancing

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.