Always

by Pj Sanders
© October 1996

I've known the tragic gloom of the ocean sky, before a storm.
I've known the power the call of the sea holds, for men like me.
I've caught the exotic scent of the Indies' Spice Ilse, on the breeze.
Felt the feathery touch of the finest silks and iris petals.

Seen those places most people,
Could only dream exist.
And I know they're filled with loneliness.

Because, now I've looked into the cornflower eyes,
Of a brash island lass,
To find an angel staring back at me,
With the eyes of a girl, from my dreams.

Her eyes--
Bright, shining, shimmering, 
Like the clear water near the shore.
Golden curls, a color even the sun couldn't match.
And the grace of the wind as it sweeps across the bow.

She was here, on this island--
An island I hardly knew--
An island I had forgotten, but for in my haunted dreams.

She helped me remember, to find my way home.
Now, all I hear is laughter and singing.
Now, all I feel is joy.
My fiddle rings sweeter and stronger, for her.

In my heart --
It was and will always be,
Felicity.



I've known only this little island.
I've known only this simple, boring life;
Of ordinary people, everyday events, 
Childish clothes and ridiculously unruly hair.
I know this island's twists and turns by heart.
I'm tired of being a child.

I long to know of what wonders the world holds, 
Of it's knowledge, it's charms, glitter and gold.
I want to know more than the same old gossip,
Of everyone knowing about everyone else's, 
Doings and Comings and Goings.

One day, his fiddle cut through the air,
To join my foolish school-girl games.
I swung around to its sweet tune,
Forgetting the woman trapped in the girl.
Only being me, for a while.

Where did you come from?
Where have you been?
Your almond eyes speak of the worlds you have seen;
Of cold oceans and sandy shores and places far from here.
How can you want to settle, after that,
For someone so ordinary, as me?

Yet, your eyes hold me, as sure as any embrace.
And I know, for certain--
That you are mine, Gus.
And I am yours,
Always.

--The End--

All comments and feedback welcomed and appreciated at: paula.sanders@shawnee.org

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