Monday, June 9, 2014

Black eyes


When you come to me with those black eyes
You hide the meaning with your sweet smile.
You talk of the future with the green fields
But I sit pummeled by the power that you yield.

Twisted branches trees entwined
Never meant to be side by side
Sprouts of life choked with a vine
Awaits the gardener to divide.

Words are math to the market fool
You slip and slide between obscure and real
Then a reset for a calculated change
So I step into a world pre-arranged.

Twisted branches trees entwined
Never meant to be side by side
Sprouts injected with seeds of life
Awaits the gardener to make thrive.

The blackest of night falls on this eve
The smile is hidden from all to see
No talk of the future or green fields to be
Yes, the north wind chills the leaves of green.

Twisted branches trees entwined
Never meant to be side by side
Sprouts of life choked with a vine
Awaits the gardener to divide.

©  2014 Rose Riversongs  by Dave Schipper