Love and Whimsy

Imageby Ron Barton28 Jan 2014

I want to hold your hand
and skip along the beaches of my mind
just to see what we find
in the grains of memory
that shift under feet.
Who knows what we might see,
who we might meet
besides the waves of creativity
and imagination.
I would build a rocket ship
out of tin
that’s washed ashore.
It would be big enough to fit us in
but only us,
no-one more.
I would fly us to space,
the final frontier,
and we would look down on everyone.
I would hold you near.
There would be no sweet nothings
- only somethings,
as long as it’s me and you.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do
to make you happy.
I’d tie a rope around the sun
and tow it back to that shore
where we were before,
the one inside my mind.
I would leave that great ball
just far enough away
that it would keep us warm
but hold winter at bay.
We could be jumping off jetties
with a backdrop of snow-capped hills,
warm away from winter’s chills.
At night,
I would light a fire
purely for romance
and our hearts would beat out
a tribal rhythm
while the stars
frolic and dance overhead.
The sides of my rocket
would fold down into a bed
and we could hold each other
until dawn
- a new day to mourn
the fact you’re no longer here.
I miss you,
my dear.