Lady From Somewhere Else
Is she waiting in the snowfall of an unseen distant plateau,
That still lives today on Christmas cards all packed up now? Is that so?
Would the lamps that light the pathways put a glow upon her face?
Are these images of fantasies all gone without a trace?
Is she staring from the window of a house, with fascination,
And now totally enthralled by crystal clear precipitation,
Lightly falling down, to make the grass a darker shade of green,
And still willing for the happiness she sought at sweet sixteen?
Is she smiling in the sunshine of the inner city skylines;-
Looking pretty as a photograph unsuited to the bylines
All contained inside newspapers circulating with great speed?
Is she reaching for the clouds, and hoping that she'll soon be freed?
Could she be a long lost princess, well-concealed within the fog?
Is she now beyond her thirties, and yet free to kiss the frog,
Thus transforming him into the prince he'd never ceased to be;
And especially if that prince of hers is someone just like me?
Is she free of all commitments made before the time was right,
And now open to her destiny in silent streets one night,
To become that part of me, which I have yet to find for sure,
That soft part that fills the void, so there can be no need for more?