HOUSE OF MANY ROOMS

HOUSE OF MANY ROOMS

Can I be the one to cry upon your shoulder,
When the tidal wave crashes and the mermaids are all dead?

Will you be the one to untie all the ropes,
To loosen the noose that’s fastened to my head?

It is all change and circumstance, the mystery, the illusion,
And I need a sweet infusion to lift the shroud of my confusion.

And will you be the one I can bleed my colors into,
Every black and every white and every shade of gray?

Will you be the boatman, will you drive the chariot,
That races to the sunset of another fruitless day?

Can I be the one to undress you slowly in the moonlight,
Can I be the one to bring light to your window?

Can I be the one to drape myself all over you,
A desperate flag at half mast, quiet and subdued?

Can you be the clown for me, can you be my saint?
Can you be my Indian brave covered in his war paint?
Can you be the image of a picture perfect day,
A human rose in handsome clothes, dressed in fine array.

Can I cry upon your shoulder
when the mermaids are resting at peace in their tombs?

Will you be my knight in armor, shining house of many rooms?

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2009
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED