The Red Toenail Blues
She was to be the one; we'd made serious plans.
She'd get her teaching degree; mine would be in biology.
Then we'd marry and live as happily as we could.
She'd take me to her beloved Wales.
To visit her people and her precious birthland.
To roam the land of red dragons and castles.
Where great clans engaged in passion and battle.
We'd stroll along the ocean and vast emerald hills.
Taste mysteries of life from the salty breeze and gull's shrill.
First, there was so much to do.
I went off to a 4-year school.
Time and distance have a way of crumbling relations.
Creeping up and down the dark side of imagination and temptation.
On spring break, I went home to visit my future bride-to-be.
Forgetting all about my bright red little pinkie,
(the victim of a few drinks and the dare of a tart).
My Welsh love took one look at the bright red toe.
Suddenly her love and faith in me had a little less glow.
Though I assured her the paint job was purely platonic.
That little red pinkie was the beginning of a relationship rotting.
Strange how our lives can pivot so violently.
On a drunken dare and a little red pinkie.
That cost me the sextant of my destiny,
The Atlantic Ocean and a castle by the sea.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
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