Confined to words on polished paper
Inclined the statement then to fake her
Any words, about any trees
Anything to think of me
A new rose in late December
The frost froze back a week or two
The parcel post and letters lent her
A short respite from nothing new
Fingers pick the stringed guitars
Fingers which don't reach to the stars
A new quiet then to fend her skin
From the embers of her tethered din
Inclined to find a hill top turning
Horizons prised from treeless leaves
Bird box in the tree
Bird box in the tree
Can you see
To the deep inside of me
Can you see
Here, deep inside of me
Gravel in the yard
Gravel in the yard
Stand up straight and true
So so hard
To stand up, stay straight and true
It is so so very hard
Time ticks on the clock
Time, don't you ever stop
Bird box in the tree
Gravel in the yard
Time ticks on the clock
It is so so very hard
Time ticks on the clock
Time, don't you ever stop
Bird box in the yard
I posted you letters
My words went astray
I opened your diary
The day laid out your way
My letters, your day
Our whispers we say
Your diary, today
So little we stray
I posted you letters
They kept you at bay
I opened your diary
I am now, on my way
My bay is your outpost
Unopened, not ever before today
Pictures painted
Flames of fire
Smoke, hanging in the air
Never to be easy at the call
Fear frightens everyone
Fear frightens all
Second order differential
Or integral equation
Stepped up
Or steeped in history
That place, where you drift now
On the cusp of sleep
On the brink of engagement
With yesterday and tomorrow
Both under the twisted blue sky
Already engaged
Turn the lights down low
The vinyl turntable
Turns once more
Candles, effervescent and tranquil
The piano lid
Is lifted again
Cracker Barrel cheese, Bilberry wine
The wishing well
In softer focus
Turn
And turn again, taste
All that is here before you
Knock seven bells
Out of any doubt
