TOWER
Sometimes I forget you do not like
For me to color outside
The lines of your coloring book.
I do not mean to taint your book,
But sometimes I just see a larger view
And forget how very important lines are to you.
I color away�skipping lines and erasing here and there,
It seems I do not really care,
That it is really your book�not mine.
Seeing a bigger picture, a different time, a larger kind,
Has always been a fault of mine.
There are no wrong colors, shades or lines in my book,
But then my mind goes blank and ignores,
That you want yours,
Mostly the same for you,
No matter how I think it looks.
My lines and hues are a changeable as the winds,
Deceivingly unlike me.
While yours are steady, rock-hard and true,
Not really reflecting a pure image of you.
Have I ruined your book?
Is it too far gone?
Have you torn out the page and tossed it along
Inside the barrel of trash by your yard?
Will you uncurl it from the tangled mess,
Smooth out the crumples and press it down flat?
Tape over the rips and look once again?
Perhaps it was a masterpiece for you, my friend.
Searching for what I have lost.
Gone down the folds of my collapsed umbrella,
Looking for that lost thing.
Searched through the empty paper bags,
Now strewn across the kitchen table.
Opened the freezer door, even peered inside the oven.
Leafed through all the files of books
Then restacked them on the shelves.
Crawled on knees, stiff and creaky,
Trying to catch a glimpse with the flashlight's eye.
Opened the desk drawer, a dozen times or more.
Checked pockets on coats and jackets, still trying to find it.
Turned laundry baskets upside down--through piles of dirty clothes.
Shoe boxes, Christmas boxes, flower pots--not here.
Moved sofa cushions, checked doorside bushes,
Gazed down heat ducts.
Sneezed and kept searching.
It's gone--
Out of my life for good.
Did you hear it in your crystal tower?
Did the music float over the meadows and through your open window?
Or did it stop outside your gate to wait
For an invitation to come inside?
Can you hear my heart song now?
As I sit, knees under my chin,
Fingers covering tightly closed eyes,
I feel your shadow fall across my hidden,
Thin-folded silhouette.
I cannot imagine the soul pain away,
Or even blunt its sharp, cutting edges.
I hold my breath inside myself until you return
To the sanctuary of your crystal tower,
And I am still out here, alone and afraid.
http://www.geocities.com/cyncity88/LordP.html
