Song for Ilse

Happy Valentimes Day Pils.

On a windy Winter afternoon, glow-wine on the stove
Friends gathered tight around a roof-top alter, collars propped against the cold
A hooded host stood central, smiling, and let a cigarette hang down
His round-face shined the grill fire back that held him, duty-bound

The bay lights drained West and the East bay glowed, and Alcatraz stood wreathed
In a swirl of cold pink cirrus clouds that Angel Island breathed
They stood with their feet on the hard gray skyline and their heads in heaven, red
A star pierced down, a harbinger, the wind born whistle said

Night crept in and though they stood stock still, their breath danced dusky time
With shadow wraiths and chimney-knights, they crossed into sublime
With no idea what lay await, what form of gift or beast
A blue-eyed boy breached twilight's gate on the day St. Patrick feasts

As the fire light dies and the guest-din built, in the dark a rising storm
Each figure filled with the ember light, they'd been sipping to keep warm
And the world opened open, and the boy stepped out, scholar, seeker, ghost
With a mystery guest since lost in time and the smiling, sharp-eyed host

The Three, they walked through the crowded streets where mirth rained down like hail
The boy's heart filled and it pulled him forth like a dove-white down-wind sail
The world grew small and the mist closed in, and the bell hit hour zero
As the boy embraced, on a dim corner stage, an old friend college hero

He glances sidelong and out of the mist two almond eyes arrest him
Bold and deep, they drink him in, unhurried to digest him
With a quick drawn breath he turns to face her, a ship snaps towards the source
Of a williwaw that's caught his sail and ripped him from his course

There she stood, like an angel-pilgram, smile on her lips
Sleeves rolled up, black hair pulled back and her hands upon her hips
Her features tan and striking; her laughter clear and free
Without a word she called him home, like a sweet Penelope

The two stood close and the rain floated up, by pure force of attraction
As they orbit through the pin prick lights of the droplets' star refraction
He touch her hand in the ink wet night, she smiled modestly
Said 'will you swim with me by the stars tonight, through the city by the sea?'

Category:

Music

Tags:

• Acoustic
• Guitar
• Song
• Original