Spoiler
Just a quick note here. This is sort of a sequel-typed thing to a poem I wrote a while ago. I wrote this around four days later, and meant to post it but never did. So I decided that it would be a good idea to post it eventually. xD Note, that I'm not exactly thrilled with the flow, but I tried to edit that as best I could without guidance. >.> Anyways.
Take Me To My Home
Take Me To My Home
I've told you before of my home,
a place of bizarre controversies;
and a land of truly captivating wonders,
things beyond senses of sound or taste or sight.
And it's only now I have been able to recognize
that I was missing something all along;
Because hearing butterflies roar
isn't the same without your hand,
ready for me to hold should I grow scared.
And amethyst trees will never be
nearly so fun to climb unless
you're there to follow me up into their limbs.
And to experience lethal rose petals,
can never be nearly as fascinating,
without you there to muse at them them with me.
and drinking from the lavender river,
where such roses grow beside,
won't ever be as refreshing
unless you can taste the colour, too.
And to swim in a lake of gold
wouldn't be nearly as joyful as I thought,
unless you're there to dare me to dive deeper.
And when we dry out in the sun,
hearing the loud whispers and quiet shouts,
wouldn't be as mysterious without you,
brow furrowed and wondering with me, too.
And taking dance lessons with the wind,
wouldn't be such a grand experience,
unless you were there to learn the steps,
and make clumsy mistakes alongside me.
And when we're exhausted from the work,
music wouldn't taste so fulfilling,
unless you were there,
so we could add your gentle voice.
And honey would only sound its best
with your arms around my waist,
as you led me in a dance in time to the tune.
And only with you twirling me,
would the fall of silver-dust rain feel so refreshing
as it lands so lightly on my skin.
And the oddity of the valleys above the hills,
and the hills above the mountains
and the mountains below the valleys,
wouldn't be as wonderful as I had first assumed
if you were there to tell me
that I am beautiful, too.
And laying on a bed made from
a gentle, winding breeze,
as I am tucked away by moonbeams,
while the stars sing me to sleep;
I would only smile then,
with your gentle lips on my cheek
kissing me good-night
as I fell slowly into a sound, deep sleep.
