My Friend
You shelter me through tempest storms – indeed, you are my friend.
You never try to change my ways, instead you interblend;
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.
In spite of fashion's etiquette, your care does not depend
on ways I dress (or part my hair) - I’m not a passing trend,
and in my need you comfort me till twists and turns unbend.
We needn’t don thin masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.
At times I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquillity which others can’t transcend.
You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout a fairyland
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in drifting sand.
With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and fearful feelings I possess you seize as contraband.
Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.
Not everyone is pleased, I’m told, that you and I are friends.
The world outside... they envy us... that you and I are friends.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends.
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment