LaAlquimista

A lizard was she And a lizard, he And all things boded well Till the day she told, With a smile quite bold, "I like your sprightly tail" A lizard was he And a lizard, she As he threw away all his care And he joined in a dance In a bloom of romance That started a crawly-affair. Round and round they went With their legs all bent In a prance across the wall. Oh! What did it matter He had a dreadful stutter? For his life was a prince's ball! A lizard was she And a lizard, he And they picked up quite a momentum As they went swirling And whirling and twirling Right into a great wad of gum Ah no! I'm stuck! He heard her qua

My once tidy room Is now empty Its windows staring lidless Its open spaces reeking of abandonment The damp air smelling of mothballs While in a corner A cluttered heap lies guiltily on the floor Broken furniture you'd left behind Things I'd always meant to throw out But ended up changing my mind When I came across the apple-wood table We'd bought together at the fair Or the lamp shed for your birthday I'd run into at the flea market It was too "yellow", you'd said But for years it had stood by your bed The last thing you touched Before drifting off to sleep And now it's too yellow for me Casting its light on a past That w

"And he lived happily ever after..." He closed the book, and looking down, gave a soft smile. Clover was already fast asleep, her strawberry blonde hair tousled over her calm features. Getting up as quietly as he could, John arranged the sheets over her tiny body and switched off the reading lamp, leaving a tiny crack in the door to bathe the room with a muted light from the hallway. Dragging his feet to the kitchen, he fixed himself a late night sandwich. Sleep eluded him even though it was nearly midnight. Reading Clover's books always gave him insomnia. Bright, cheerful colours splashed across pages and pages of glossy illustrations, wit

Twenty one is that curious age When the world gives you a nod To drink, be merry and stay up late Come back home at hours odd Twenty one is the start of times When you face the world at last The good, the bad, the new, the old And you learn to shed your past Twenty one is that dreaded phase When big decisions come a-knocking At your door when you'd rather be On the phone with your sweetheart, talking Twenty one is the beginning of Adventures, or so I'm told But I light a candle in hopes that you may Grow up but never grow old