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Waking up in the afternoon....

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Shakesthecoffecan:
The midnight prayer of the hamhanded lover

Please, for this one,
Cradled in my arms,
Grant him peace.
Grant him a sunny day and friends who love him,
Grant him a long and healthy life.
Smooth over the bumps in his path,
Even if those bumps be me.
Light the way for him.
His heart be a place of joy,
Bright shining as the moon on the water.
Grant him anything, my grasp cannot provide.

I will pay the tab, with my own short comings.
I will smile as I remember the way he felt.
With my arms now wrapped around my empty heart.

CellarDweller:
and he thinks my writing is good.

Shakesthecoffecan:
The morning is waiting.
What is it I need, what magic,
To pull me forward into the cold world,
To deal with one more set
Of other peoples dramas.....

You old boots,
Sitting there cold, by the front door,
Any magic left in you?
Will you make my soles vibrate with the
Gentle sliding of the San Andreas,
Will you carry me back
To an Indian Summer afternoon,
Beer in Hand,
Head full of silliness and the flying nun?

No, say the boots,
No more than you just did.
I can only push you an inch higher,
So you can see the crap,
A split second earlier,
And duck.  :-*

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