Dreamin...7 cubed

When I am held in your arms

I contemplate mysteries

Like the origin of ants

And whether they could tell

If the lawn in which they live

Is mowed by a Methodist

Or a Presbyterian

When I am in your arms

I have the time to count words

And calculate the number

Of times it appears in song

I always pick easy words

And I meticulously

Avoid ones like I love you

When I am in your arms

Time just seems to crawl slowly

Each tick resounds in my ear

Each tock as a clanging bell

I begin to wonder at

Your affliction of deafness

Since you do not seem to hear

When I am in your arms

I often think of my lunch

Would a sandwich have been good

Will I pack or buy next time

There are so many choices

In the frozen food aisles

Some actually quite tasty

When I am in your arms

I hope I watered the plants

And took the trash out today

Did I leave dirty dishes

Fluff the pillows on my bed

Not that you would ever know

For I have not asked you home

When I am in your arms

I think of the arms I miss

The mistakes I have made

That have left me with just you

I regret every moment

Of the should have, could have, beens

My dreams are only azure

When I am in your arms

I can’t help but imagine

How good my hot bath will feel

Then you think you have pleased me

And roll over with a grunt

As I miss my cigarettes

Though I have never smoked one

(c) NP 09/10