The songbird sings. The bell rings. The clock chimes. The farm is rich in limes.
A slow dance, a quick pounce, just one chance, to steal a glance.
The songs of old, hide memories gold, stories untold, yet to behold.
Who knows, what shows, secrets in coves, hidden behind cute bows.
I did try, she did cry, oh why did I have to lie? Alone I lie.
Chipu is tall and built. Full of wits and exploding with charisma. His eyes dance as he tells tales of his great travels beyond the sea. We love his tales. No, I really love his tales. He flings his hands in the air drawing the waves and ships for us to see. They are always tall and wide.
His grin is big and friendly as he tells his tales. His teeth are not very white. They are not as white as Mr. Bikri’s, our school teacher. Mother says they are not white because of all the lies that spew out of his mouth. I wonder if my teeth are still white.
The day is dull, the wind at ease, the trees at peace, the hatchlings asleep,
The people walk on, fast and quick, busy as bees, missing the flowers in this bliss,
A world awake, a world that never sleeps, the economic race, rats running at pace,
A world asleep, a world that never wakes, the beauty around us, too many roses yet to smell.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.
And yet I was blinded to the truth, blinded to the proof.
The truth didn’t set me free. The truth has me in misery.
Ignorance is bliss. No, you should have seen that first kiss.
Her smile had me at desire, stripping my blinds and teasing my eyes.
Many a man has fallen at the hands of women.
I was ready to fall. To fall in love or to fall for love.
She had me weak at the knees, practicing proposal scenes.
Singing RnBs, dancing with Neyo hats to the beat.
Run after your dreams.
Oh, please. She was well beyond my dreams.
But I’m sorry Frank, I ran after your dreams.
The truth hurts.
I feel sorry for the truth. It must be the lie.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. Her beauty lied to me.
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash