day by day she chose to stay
locked inside her heart at bay
locked inside her heart at bay
clad in hopes long gone dry
wonderin’ why she even tried
she dressed in dreams
all sewn up with lonely seams
night by night she chose to pray
for one more kiss one more day
wonderin’ why she even tried
she dressed in dreams
all sewn up with lonely seams
night by night she chose to pray
for one more kiss one more day
9 comments:
I hope he's reading this. This is really lovely, Gypsy.
and thank you so much for your own lovely words, trish - but, alas, i know that he is not - such is the way of things -
How beautifully and delicately you paint that quietly folding dream – the eye averted from desperate acknowledgement – the surrender to malaise. Some truths are too painful to even feel. We tread the tepid water shivering in silent denial that we are slowly drowning. We cling to dreams barely remembered, unable to return – afraid to advance. Gladly we pay the sharpest coin and pay it day by day. No more than the lingering scent - the barest trace in the ocean indifferent and call it love.
sometimes, steppenwolf, it is as if you have slipped silently into my own dreamcloset where your words issue forth as my own - uncanny -
beautifully said, sir! thank you -
hope has rarely found a better choice.
I am working on a portrait, watch my blog,maybe tomorrow if I can get hold of that elusive feeling I'm trying to represent...
I'm working of the portrait of a young woman lost in her dreams, and the dreams seem so sweet... or maybe they're bittersweet, hence a very unusual portrait...
In black and white
I'm touching to this elusive idea with my electronic brush. I thought I had it but it went away along with a curse.
I'm listening to knopfler and it's coming back in a tremendous rush, and I must grasp it in the dark...
J'sais pas pourquoi je chante
J'sais pas pourquoi, pourquoi je chante
Mais j'sais que j'peux pas m'empêcher
She was singing during the photo session, a wonderful voice with a tinge of regret. I think that I will call it "La jeune femme au sourire triste"... or maybe "la jeune femme aux beaux yeux"...
Why is it so hard? Why is it so difficult? Why? So many hopes, so many regrets.
oh, dear dear roger - but we must never ever regret - look only to our hopes and let them guide us to what it is we want and need - we all make choices that later perhaps we wish we had not but in the end it is exactly those choices that allow us to make other choices the next time - and i so wish i knew what to say but i do not - my own life at times seems elusive - like the magnificent butterfly - i love your title - which will you choose, i wonder? - your song words remind me of my thoughts:
Je ne sais pas pourquoi j'aime
Je ne sais pas pourquoi, pourquoi j'aime
mais je sais que je ne peux pas m'empêcher de l'amour!
and while you are doing all these female portraits, you should take one of mine and interpret it with your electronic brush for me, yes?
have a great day, sir!
anonymous - i'm sorry to just now be responding to your kind words for which i thank you - but i'm wondering if you won't let yourself be known, rather than remaining anonymous? yes?
was that you, cj?
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