I am the her that is his muse
I am the her that makes him shine
I am the her that called to him
And caused the stars to realign

I am the her that is his breath
I am the her that is his smile
I am the her that made him see
Joy is not synonymous with guile

I am the her that fills his heart
I am the her that gives him life
I am the her that takes away
His suffering and strife

I am the her behind his words
I am the her that sees the man
I am the her that shows him how
The power of love is in our hands

It was the moment,
In between when the mushrooms kicked in,
And my heart blowing oot,
As heaven was destroying and rebuilding,
All the holes,
The music took hold,
And my smile made me bold,
The car ride seemed so far,
But closing my eyes I realized I am already there,
Scenes playing like a movie I had seen,
Just all of the sets aren't the same,
And all the actors have different names,
The smile is still there

she was correcting
one  
     by
         one
all the mistakes of her past,
with an eraser and a pencil
in a bleak room painted clinical white.

there is a sparkle in your eyes
and it somehow outshines the stars --
the world stops everytime you smile,
there's light in everything you are.
your laugh is like a melody
and there is sunshine where you go.
you are a thunderstorm, so powerful,
but spring starts when you say 'hello'.
and I've never told you how I feel --
it's something we don't talk about,
you don't see your beauty as surreal,
or know that I can't live without.
but maybe some day, years from now,
you'll find out that you were the cause
of every smile, each song I wrote --
and how in love with you I was.

You own
the skies
the stars
the seas
the mountains
the valleys
and You want
my heart.

Wanton lad, tamed a bit by time, is still game for anything,
the girl, sober and cool decided she too for once will fall in line,
the waterfall, a quaint sight, foamy, milky flow gushing,
ecstatic, they melted in  the pool at the  fall where waves  are churning

In the crowded platform
he sure was the dancing peacock
in his heart was blowing a storm
he feigned though looking at the station clock.*

Not the clock he was eying that one lovely girl
her face storm gatherer like her hair's black curl
he blushed every time she would catch his eyes
stealing her a look in indifference's disguise.

He was within enjoying this farcical foreplay
didn't know her train his was an hour away
imagined she too was singling him out
from the flock of men his contenders no doubt.

Did a wispy smile float on her cherry lip
few moments' encounter could it be that deep
still in his wondrous thought the girl he did own
on that absurd stage for her his love was grown.

One could not tell what was going within her
her eyes were they touched shone there a star
was she too mindful of him held him once in gaze
or her mind was too far away on a different page.

The hour passed quick in the young man's trance
between changing trains with the peacock's dance
when chugged in her train flew away the butterfly
the whistles of his train drowned his rending sigh.