Saturday, September 29, 2012

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

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