
Magic goes against
Notions the placid lake holds
Of keeping its calm
Magic I believe
The very reason I breathe
Of love’s whirlwind pace
As I capture you
Your wild brother rejoices
My songbird, my love
To write of the rain
When drought looms o’er this valley
My pen would ask why
Chin up and recall
Who stared at your hurting heart
With a false god’s eyes
I want you to drive
And I’ll not worry whether
My hair misbehaves
Because I’ve endured
How love does not taste and feel
I know this is bane
Autumn had its way
My hair, now Wint’ry silver
Is promised Summer
With each syllable
The Earth is falling away
And my breath fails me
My Summer meetings
But for Cliché Saturdays
Have meant ev’rything