Our One NightOur One Night.Our one night in the name of love.Romantic. Sweet. A nice thought.Will happen. Always.Our one night.IT STANDS FOR SO MUCH.Love.Love, yes, and?...Life.Those who have livedlovedand died.All the couples of the pastthe presentand the future.US.Our one night.Romantic. Sweet. A nice thought.Passionate. Vibrant. Emotional.Colorful. New. Strange, true.Tingling, singing, dancing, living, loving, and so much more.I'm in love.No doubt about it.PARENTS DISAGREE. IS THE WORLD AGAINST LOVE?I know. I know it's him.I'm not crazy. I'm not BLIND.I'M NOT BLIND. AND NEITHER IS LOVE.WE ARE NOT MISUNDERSTANDING THIS.I love him.Sing it, shout it, scream it, write it.Noting could match this feeling.The roar of an audience, the laugh of an infant.But this... RUSH.This surgethis HIGHis unmistakable.I love him.I'm in love.Love.It's a common word these days, so oftenly used, but more oftenly abused. I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! NO. Not. Can they understand, comprehe
The Drummer Boy of ShilohPeach petals driftthrough the woe-laden air,a young boy, too young,is shivering there.He clutches his drumas he contemplates fate,tears stream down his facethrough this torturous wait.The petals stroke gentlyhis soft face and hair,a saccharine beautyto obscure his despair.He turns now his thoughtsto think not of demise,he looks to the campas hot tears sting his eyes.He sees some men weepingwhile others seem proud,yet faces unreadablethrough this horrorous shroud.They are forced to sit idleas they, too, ponder fate...oh, death is so realas the hours grow late.A bloody-red sunsetto accompany gloom,as the men sit and weepfor their impending doom.
Balletic RoseBathe in the stage lights,their mystical glare,a new presence consumes her,with everyone there.A soloist ghostposessing her now,she's no longer herself...Shocking... but how?When dancers give allof their hearts to the stage,it matters no longertheir gender or age.Her dancing reflectedin the audience's eyes,that gives her the strength,for she cannot dance lies.Her heart swells with prideas she hits the last pose,her teary eyes twinkle,this balletic rose...There's a second of silence,then the audience roars,yes, these are the peoplethis dancer adores.Nothing could topthis huge feeling inside...A rushing of energy, strength, pride...With a smile and a curtsy,she departs at a glance,off to prepare herselffor the next dance.