Castles
A woman, she lives up on high,
Her castle is also very high,
She roams to her lookout and waits.
Her light is shining bright,
Her porch light that is,
It shines oh so bright, as she watches and waits.
She waits . . . . . . . . .
And waits . . . . . . . . .
And waits . . . . . . . . . .
She tires so; she’s taxed from sitting at the highest and waiting,
She wonders, this castle, is no good, offers no energy, no value,
It’s just plain and black, with the only shining entity her porch light,
She pushes herself up, walks down from her highest,
And walks out from that large, exquisite, beautiful, lonely castle,
She takes off these uncomfortable shoes,
And walks barefoot off from the stone path onto the grass,
She breathes in the fresh, natural air of new,
Turns around and sees only outside lights, yet darkness inside,
She suddenly looks forward again,
And with a smile continues to walk forward,
As she beams with the most beautifully luminous glow.
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