I can hear the sweep of tires
racing down the lonely way
as darkness peers
through my window panes
the hum of a wanting story
floats softly through the air
cold creeps into the cracks
and I hope for it all to pass
as I wait for passion to fill my glass
warming my soul, making me whole
as memories follow me to my bed
I turn the lights dark
as the moon lands a yellow ball
gently reflecting on my bedroom walls
and I wonder where the bluebird flew
leaving me stuck in the sundew
with enchanting dreams
of finding you.