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WHEN BUTTER MELTS AND MOODS TURN BLUE

“Love --- all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want.”

 

Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

 

Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJbmXvBJhCs

Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars

 

WHEN BUTTER MELTS AND MOODS TURN BLUE

 

When butter melts and moods turn blue, I fall asleep and dream of you

in another world we are as one, but in the real world we are none.

other than friends that's all there is; to listen, admire and sometimes kiss.

Am I alright you ask of me. Yes I answer, as I can be.

When I awake from slumbered dreams, I see reflected in my stream

a face I know but seldom seen; my spirit purged remains serene.

Serenity is my finer hour, devoid of love that may devour

the whole of me that shackled love with heavy chains that cage the dove;

of peace and endless summer time, back in those days when you were mine.

Eyes wide shut but open wide, I left my secrets for you to hide.

I walked a path constrained by my, blinkered vision of the sky.

You see the sky is free above; no need to hanker for a love

forbidden like the poisoned apple that threatens sleep in sunlight dappled

upon the woods and green landscape you freed me when I would not escape.

I thank you from my heart, my Friend. I'm free of torment without end.

I lay in meadows sumptuous yellow,' matted buttercups, thoughts now mellow

and dream of times when I will meet, a love that matches all that's sweet

within my heart remains the pure untainted love somewhat demure,

so tender, warm and softly waiting for someone worthy of translating

the essence that's the whole of me; blue skies in eyes; deep as the sea

and then and only then I'll rest the quest for love when only best

will do for me and satiate this deep desire that penetrates

the heart of me and fills my soul with dusky romance that cajoles

the beating of my heart to step in time with kindred spirit we will chime

and dance to tunes only we hear; no longer lonely filled with fear.

but dreams come true fly high and up; look down on yellow buttercups.

 

- AP – Copyright remains with the author

 

Original digital artwork by me

 

'copyright image please do not reproduce without permission'

 

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Uploaded on May 27, 2016
Taken on June 7, 2015