There is a vase on the mantle warm
porcelain white
with inlays of gold
smooth and curved to a simple beauty
One day I will bring a rose
and place it in the vase
When it has bloomed,
people will pass through
and say how beautiful it is
And they will mean the rose
But I will know
it was always the vase
Tarry here with me, child
Lay your pearly fingers on my sleeve
and cast the blues up to only me
I can pretend a crown I wear
and you can pretend you're safe
as we waltz out of the garden.
Like a campfire seen miles away
I see something in you distant and solitary
A light of warmth and home at ease
that I would gladly travel a lifetime for