Our house on the hill
is no longer a mansion...or even a place to call home;
highly polished oak floors
have become dry and cracked wood.
Tomorrow's window was
always wide open.
A bright skylight of future dreams..
now covered with someone else's
faded and worn lace curtains.
My dreams have vanished;
gone like the night train to El Paso.
How many times i have sighed,
I am just another fly on the wall
that has fallen behind a picture frame
instead of the smiling face on your dresser.
Yes, there have been others
who have promised me champagne and red balloons.
"come share my house on Easy Street"
"I'll be your Sugar Daddy"
"we'll tip-toe around the world"
but it has been wasted persuasion
I'm taking my time...well actually, waiting...
watering my little grove of peach trees
and one day i will bake your favorite peach pie
no longer will that old black dog sit at our feet
and remind us that we are...