a tiny wick that hotly sits on wax filled with perfume
burns and turns the darkened room a lighter shade of noon
like ants tap dancing on the roof, the rain begins to pour
and here, with you, my dreams come true, like many times before
invited in, we’ve always been. “You don’t have to stay in there.”
but stay the day we’re glad to, for this home is ours to share
though cold and old and creaky as she fights for our next drive
there’s strength at length that’s yet to come, in here we feel alive
her face the grace of royalty, she’s proud to not display
to camouflage her entourage is where she makes her play
her moans and groans the lullaby’s that sing us sweet to sleep
she smiles with every mile that she tucks beneath her feet
she stores more in her cupboards than dried goods and our clothes
the memories of you and me and more are what she knows
our fears are shared our burdens bared, her walls our secrets hide
forever time will show that I’m much better for her ride
on a blustery Tuesday in Tacoma, WA
Snoop Bloggy Blog
What fun- I’ve forgotten, does she have a name?
Aha! Exploit the obvious, that’s often where the answers lay! Perhaps within a title…
=];-)>
better than “magical mystery tour”…………….jared, will you be writing the music for this one? people have had centuries of love affairs with their jobs, their cars, their boats, their pets, even them selves…… why not have a love affair with the rickety, crickety, clickety (i just can’t help myself) wheels that are the foundation of your incredible journey north and then some…….. heaven knows……rock mama ….luff!
Cozzzy. B-)
Awesome! And I found myself tapping my toes as I read it. ๐ I see a song too. ๐