...life

Some times you can't swing a mongoose without hitting a knight.

"Storybook" from The Scarlet Pimpernel

Listen to me, I have beautiful dreams I can spin you
Dreams to linger within you
Close your eyes and we'll ride my carousel
I'll sing you stories of lovers whose love used to fill me
And the lovers who will be
For, you see, love is one thing I do well
Come, let's believe love can be just as sweet as it seems
Let's live on dreams!
In my dreams such beautiful lovers have found me
Storybook lovers surround me
Nothing is real, but I'm flying, sighing

Where, where, where is my storybook ending?
Why does my golden pretending
Leave me with nothing to hold but my dreams?
Oh, is it only in dreams that we find our ideal love?

Are there lovers with real love?
If you know how to feel love, show me now
Ah, but my prince, if you can't be as sweet as you seem
I'd rather dream
Come and wake me!
Come be the love I can hold now
Storybook love leaves me cold now
Show me the way to stop dreaming

There is only one perfect storybook ending
That is the end of pretending
That is the moment I say, love me now!
Et sur mon manege, l'amour toujours est chantantDe mes reves, c'est le commencementEt j'espere une fin heureuseMais la fin de l'histoire ne vient pas tres doucementPour l'histoire, il faut faire semblantCertes je n'embrasse que mes revesSeuls mes reves!

Caution

Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.

Bertrand Russell
English mathematician and philosopher (1872-1970)

My Immortal

Begun 4-30-08

I met a nymph with shadow hair
And secrets she was loath to share.

She carried daggers made from bone,
Her heart was like a beating stone.

Clad in blue like sky or water,
Mended from the ones who'd fought her.

In her eyes, if you looked deep,
Are scores of tears she did not weep.

Old scars shrouded by a smile,
The past is gone, though it a trial.

Past is past, and past is gone,
Heads and hearts and lives go on.

Friends still dear, and life still sweet,
With dancing allies and dancing feet.

Tuesday, January First, 2008

There is in stillness, a breath of memory.
Caught in the eyes of a friend, when she looks at her him.
A healing heart glories in the moment when her joy will begin.
A promise for her, memoirs of what will be.