(Poem #207)Stars All Seem To Weep Stayed true to the things I knew when I was younger And food and love was all but left to hunger. 'Cause when I stray from my truth as I grow older Too much leaves an empty hollow hunger. I think about you on a moonlit night And the stars all seem to weep. When there's so much to lose There's never any time for sleep. Look at me doing all these things without you. We always left a new world untrue. Where was it we tried hard not to go to? I think that's how I finally came through. All the things we took for granted The words still live on in my head All the times I took for granted All the words I never said. I think about you in the moonlit night, And the stars all seem to weep. When there's so much love to give, There's never any time for sleep, yeah. So I stayed true to the things I knew when I was younger And human life was all but left to hunger, 'Cause when I stray from the truth as I grow older Too much leaves an empty hollow hunger. Too much leaves an empty hollow hunger. Living without you Living without you. Living without you, oh. |
Stars All Seem To Weep -- Beth Orton
The Perfect Day -- Alice N. Persons
(Poem #206)The Perfect Day You wake with no aches in the arms of your beloved to the smell of fresh coffee you eat a giant breakfast with no thought of carbs there is time to read with a purring cat on your lap later you walk by the ocean with your dog on this cut crystal day your favorite music and the sun fill the house a short delicious nap under a fleece throw comes later and the phone doesn't ring at dusk you roast a chicken, bake bread, make an exquisite chocolate cake for some friends you've been missing someone brings you an unexpected present and the wine is just right with the food after a wonderful party you sink into sleep in a clean nightgown in fresh sheets your sweetheart doesn't snore and in your dreams an old piece of sadness lifts away |
What We Want -- Linda Pastan
(Poem #205)What We Want What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book and these things bear our names— now they want us. But what we want appears in dreams, wearing disguises. We fall past, holding out our arms and in the morning our arms ache. We don't remember the dream, but the dream remembers us. It is there all day as an animal is there under the table, as the stars are there even in full sun. |