Blue Railings
Why did I feel that way,
why did my heart ache whenever I saw her
just walking somewhere,
or sitting and looking so beautiful.
I saw her once, one lifetime long ago
leaning on some blue painted railings
gazing across a river
as I walked by, and I stared at her when she wasn’t looking,
then when she turned and looked at me, when our eyes met,
why did this happen, my eyes filled with tears
and I lowered my gaze
and I melted at her feet in the dust.
I knew that she wasn’t a center-fold
like in those glossy women’s magazines,
no ravishing beauty, but there was something about her
that came through,
she was one of the few that men marry and stay with
year after year after year, in love.
She was fifteen, a slip of a girl
and I eighteen just gone,
I always thought that her skin shone
like moonlight on a lake,
for goodness sake
she was just a factory girl, but her eyes,
I dreamed about her eyes,
and her hair
smooth as silk-worms spin,
and black, black as ebon ink,
and she could dance, O how she could dance
and move her lithe body
which was made for bosanova.
How many years, how many lifetimes had I known her
and once again I met her here in this life
leaning on some blue railings
looking out across a river,
maybe this time we’ll be together,
forever.
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