X

X

Loves animals

Loves listening to classic rock music

Says no to the wrong things

X

With her glasses almost,

Slipping off her small,

Petite nose,

She looks down at him,

Her rose red lips,

Slightly ajar,

Her elbow rests on the table,

Her arm bends backwards,

Her hand cupping,

Her resting chin,

A table, full of fish,

And rice

And everything nice,

Surrounds her,

A half full glass,

Of home made lemonade,

With its red straw sticking up,

And pointing anywhere,

Yet towards her,

Sits there,

Waiting to be finished,

But, she’s not interested,

Its only he, that

Takes her breath,

And inhales it,

As his own.

She’s dreaming,

Of being away from these glass windows,

These padded floors,

She’s dreaming of being with him,

On a hot summer day,

Or on a cold winters night,

She’s dreaming of being together,

Lying in the hay,

Sharing each others souls.

She’s dreaming of that happiness,

That only he can give her.

She raises her soft,

White finger,

It kisses the screen,

And it flicks,

Through those precious images,

Of him,

And his friends,

Who, although maybe be far away,

Yet, are close enough,

She can hear their heart beat,

She dreams,

Of the next time they will meet,

And of other liked minded opportunities,

Their minds and hearts mixing,

Like the perfect milkshake,

Being made to savour,

Not drink in one gulp.

Yesterday,

Well, it seemed so far away,

She stretches out her arms,

Opening wide,

Trying to reach the sky,

It rings in her ears,

It trembles her out stretched toes,

It soothes her sore throat,

It massages her mind,

Squeezing,

And pushing,

Those knots and bumps,

Out of her body,

They empty her body,

Like the devil escaping God’s wrath,

Gone, fading into the wind,

Never to rear its ugly head

At least for another day

Suddenly,

Yesterday didn’t seem so far away,

Suddenly, it seemed like it was here to stay,

She’s done,

She’s almost passed out,

What was a small smile,

Hiding inside,

Is now a full blown angel

Resting on her face.

She’s young at heart,

But her mind knows the miles

She’s not a Beyoncee,

Say my name,

Say my name,

Type of girl,

She’s more of a

Rolling stones,

And Satisfaction,

Type of girl,

For, although she maybe satisfied

Briefly, with her animals,

And her music,

She just can’t get any satisfaction,

She just can't get no satisfaction 
She just can't get no satisfaction 
Cause she tries and she tries and she tries and she tries 
She just can't get no,

She just can't get no

She wants something,

Better,

A little but

A little better

She’s a good girl,

She has a heart,

Gold isn’t found,

In the mines,

Nor, is it found washed up,

In the stony rivers,

It’s found in people like her

Her heart,

Beating like an ox,

Her mind,

Staring down,

A bull, ready to run

In Spain’s famous bull races,

Yet, hmmm

She’s strong,

She knows,

To look both ways before she crosses the road,

She knows to dot her i’s

And to cross her t’s,

She knows,

That if someone asks her to help

That poor orphaned child,

Gather some food,

For its nightly meal,

Or that when,

Her friend’s heart is heavy,

She knows to help,

She knows what is right.

Yet, as equally as she knows that,

She knows,

That, when someone suggests something

That is a little queer,

A little strange,

Maybe it’s getting into a car,

After someone’s had a drink,

Or maybe someone,

Suggests to her,

To stay out after her curfew,

She knows to say no,

She knows,

That the wrong thing,

Could lead to the results,

Which she doesn’t aspire for,

She knows, what path,

She wants to follow,

And for her,

Following Dorothy,

And the tin man,

And the lion,

And the scare crow,

Is where she wants to go.