you and i, we’ve met before
before the winding alleys to my home changed
where daisies met every morning to greet the sun
and music wafted from the apartment above
the road where i walked to the bus stop and
stopped to chase the little ducklings along the way
you and i have met before
before i forgot the way to your home
the one that has that tea shop for four
and around the bend, waters blue
with doves so white and pristine true
we’ve been apart chasing dreams, some elusive, some real
but the moon’s been out each night, leaving a trail
you and i we’ve met before
I’ve just forgotten the way home.
…is to watch the morning unfold, looking as inviting as buttered toast. The sun is out and someone in the apartment has decided to liven things up by playing the saxophone….it’s odd I always relate the sax to a moonless night. For a brief moment I think I hear the flutter of pigeons…getting breakfast I suppose? As for me I shall squander away the morning for its mine to give. Nothing beats the feeling of warm sun on your back and the spectacle called life.