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I Laid an Invisible Rose
at my Love's Feet
To the time before there were kings.
My father ruled his castle.
I thought my mother was his queen ---- but she was his captive/
I was his squire being groomed for knight-hood?
Now I rule my own castle/
I have become the black knight.
My word is the law.
If i am disobeyed ---- I will shackle her in my dungeon.
Because my father's wars are my wars, even though I am at peace.
In the distance ---- my eyes gazed upon her beauty.
I laid an invisible rose at my love's feet.
I spoke to her.
I laid an invisible rose at my love's feet.
I watched her walking as if she were floating ----
dancing over the ground.
I laid an invisble rose at my love's feet.
One day my love overwhelmed me ---- as my child was born.
I laid an invisible rose at my love's feet.
I watch my love sleeping.
I laid an invisible rose at my love's feet.
The fragrance of my love is in the air,
as she walks toward me.
I laid an invisible rose at my love's feet.
My love talks to me tenderly ---- and I answer her sardonically/
I laid a visible thorn at my love's feet.
My love is trying so desperately hard but nothing she can do ----
will appease me/
I laid a visible thorn at my love's feet.
There are only so many stones I can give to my love ----
before the wearing away and suffocation will arrive.
I laid a visible thorn at my love's feet.
The time has come for my daughter to take her rags off.
She pleads and implores for her gowns.
I laid a visible thorn at my love's feet.
I am dismayed ----
as I refrain and evade in a tilted position.
I am reluctant ----
because of my shame fluttering readily in the wind.
I have been riding this stagecoach ----
season after season in hell ----
chasing the dragon and his dreams.
All castles must fade so the dynasty will survive.
In only a moment we will be old.
I hear music, and there is no one to listen to the echo.
Alone silently praying at my darken altar ----
there are no torches to light my path.
There will be no roses or thorns at my grave.
No wife to mourn me.
Nor daughter to bare my name.
Kneeling alone in the weeping rain.
Penned By:
Rick Ryckman (c)2003
Grapevine, Texas
Author's Comments:
If a man does not learn to listen.
He cannot learn to communicate.
Until it is too late.
A man must learn how to cry ---- in order to taste
his own tears.
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