January 2, 2005, 6.00 am
Um. I've been writing quite a bit, and not sharing it with y'all ( <-- a one-syllable word).
I call this one Fireside Memories. I wrote it about an hour ago. I have a bunch more, but I'm going to bed.
I call this one Fireside Memories. I wrote it about an hour ago. I have a bunch more, but I'm going to bed.
Stories of things that happened
Overshadowed by things that haven't happened
- Yet are sure to -
Sure to, and forseen, and have been forseen
On nights such as this, when drunk off fumes
And fireside memories and reminiscing until late hours,
When the candles have tipped over and have spilt their hot wax
Which has hardened into a splurb of cotton-colored, mantel-topping volcanic flow
That's when you cross my mind again, and I remember the dreams that I had last night -
Whiskey dreams - with bright colors, and free movements, and the beautiful girl that I love
Who is no longer by my side.
Overshadowed by things that haven't happened
- Yet are sure to -
Sure to, and forseen, and have been forseen
On nights such as this, when drunk off fumes
And fireside memories and reminiscing until late hours,
When the candles have tipped over and have spilt their hot wax
Which has hardened into a splurb of cotton-colored, mantel-topping volcanic flow
That's when you cross my mind again, and I remember the dreams that I had last night -
Whiskey dreams - with bright colors, and free movements, and the beautiful girl that I love
Who is no longer by my side.
categorized as the muse
