You and me

You and me,

We lay beneath the sycamore tree,

Like two peas in a pod,

You and me.

You play a tune for me,

I'll sing back lyrics or a melody,

We'll make music together,

You and me.

When the sun begins to set,

Dust off our clothes,

And together we will dance,

Beneath the sycamore tree.

There is a song I hear,

When you speak my name,

I'll listen close and careful,

My dear, I can see, just you and me.

She Writes

Smooth silver moonlight crept through the windows,

With iron bars there to be-still the girl.

Small innocent hands chained to the brick walls,

Shooting pains inside her brain making her fall in a curl.

A man was watching her closely,

Reading the expression in her face.

“Write another!” the man spat,

Foul smelling breath wafting, all with little grace.

Dissatisfaction wasn’t a pleasant thing,

Especially when it came to writing.

The girl always wrote for the man,

He always hated it, thus begins the fighting.

She did not mind it when he yelled,

No, she blocked all that out.

It was when he belittled her writing,

Then anger filled her to the brim, no doubt.

“You love to write, I see, but please, Love

Won’t you write something to satisfy me?”

The man’s words taunting her,

Daunting her to no end.

Writing was her passion,

She loved it with all her being,

But part of her was trapped,

And she could not see any sign of freeing.

She writes for the beholder of her beauty,

She writes for the faint whispers in the dark.

He knows that she feels such pain,

Even when her fabulous ideas spark.