To Tell Of Maine
Perhaps I was a bit naïve
For thinking that blanket of trees in Maine
Would hide us from reality.
Beneath their limbs, we forgot
That summer wouldn't last forever.
I stood out on the deck,
My head in the clouds, waiting
For a girl like you. And you stood there,
Not knowing the line of fire
would match your every move.
It wasn't without hesitation that your secrets
found my ears, and my fingers found your hands.
I wrapped myself inside of them,
Searching madly for a rip cord.
Something I could pull to bring you out.
For you were a mover, and myself, a shaker.
It was an intensity you hadn't felt before.
When it came to your heart, I took no prisoners.
And you took no chances when it came to mine.
With no intention, you divided my attention
between the past and the future,
Leaving the present to slip away like
the morning fog as it rolled off Echo lake.
I saw your reflection in the water,
Your eyes, the deepest un-sailed vessel.
You saw mine in the mirror and fled.
Sometimes, the truth can be overwhelming.
And I believe there are moments in life
When we’re not quite ready to be loved.
A month and a half felt like a lifetime,
Until seven years passed.
And now I find this novel idea,
So charming in its simplicity.
There isn't a single part of me that
Hasn't changed, and there’s not a thing
About you that I haven’t missed.
Some tales grow old with people,
And some people age without any to tell.
I’d rather be among the first few
With something beautiful to talk about
Beneath tree tops and blankets.
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