Our Song

I was riding shotgun with my hair undone
In the front seat of his car
He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel
The other on my heart

I look around, turn the radio down
He says, Baby is something wrong?
I say, Nothing I was just thinking
How we don't have a song and he says

Our song is the slamming screen door
Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window
When we're on the phone and you talk real slow
'Cause it's late and your mama don't know

Our song is the way you laugh
The first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should have
And when I got home, 'fore I said amen
Asking God if He could play it again

I was walking up the front porch steps
After everything that day
Had gone all wrong or been trampled on
And lost and thrown away

Got to the hallway, well, on my way
To my lovin' bed
I almost didn't notice all the roses
And the note that said

Our song is the slamming screen door
Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window
When we're on the phone and you talk real slow
'Cause it's late and your mama don't know

Our song is the way you laugh
The first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should have
And when I got home, 'fore I said amen
Asking God if He could play it again

I've heard every album, listened to the radio
Waited for something to come along
That was as good as our song

'Cause our song is the slamming screen door
Sneakin' out late, tapping on his window
When we're on the phone and he talks real slow
'Cause it's late and his mama don't know

Our song is the way he laughs
The first date man, I didn't kiss him and I should have
And when I got home, 'fore I said amen
Asking God if He could play it again
Play it again, oh, yeah, oh, oh, yeah

I was riding shotgun with my hair undone
In the front seat of his car
I grabbed a pen and an old napkin
And I wrote down our song


Bernadine Reyneke Tender - 15 years, 2 months, 3 days ago

"I know that all beneath the moon decays"
by William Drummond of Hawthornden

I know that all beneath the moon decays,
And what by mortals in this world is brought,
In Time’s great periods shall return to nought;
That fairest states have fatal nights and days;
I know how all the Muse’s heavenly lays,
With toil of spright which are so dearly bought,
As idle sounds of few or none are sought,
And that nought lighter is than airy praise.
I know frail beauty like the purple flower,
To which one morn oft birth and death affords;
That love a jarring is of minds’ accords,
Where sense and will invassal reason’s power:
Know what I list, this all can not me move,
But that, O me! I both must write and love.


"Alas, so all things now do hold their peace!"
by Petrarch

Alas, so all things now do hold their peace!
Heaven and earth disturbèd in no thing;
The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,
The nightès car the stars about doth bring;
Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less:
So am not I, whom love, alas! doth wring,
Bringing before my face the great increase
Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,
In joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.
For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring:
But by and by, the cause of my disease
Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,
When that I think what grief it is again
To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.
Bernadine Reyneke Tender - 15 years, 2 months, 4 days ago

In the month of June
Nothing better can be
Than a field full of mud
Full of history

Why Abe Lincoln might have stepped
In the mud beneath
And let it squishy squashy between his feet

Though probably not
One thing is true
Nothing is better than
Mud without shoes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bernadine Reyneke Tender - 15 years, 2 months, 5 days ago

Once in the dream of a night I stood
Lone in the light of a magical wood,
Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang;
And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang,
And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed,
And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed
In that magical wood in the land of sleep.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Where sunless rivers weep

Their waves into the deep,

She sleeps a charmed sleep:

Awake her not.

Led by a single star,

She came from very far

To seek where shadows are

Her pleasant lot.



She left the rosy morn,

She left the fields of corn,

For twilight cold and lorn

And water springs.

Through sleep, as through a veil,

She sees the sky look pale,

And hears the nightingale

That sadly sings.



Rest, rest, a perfect rest

Shed over brow and breast;

Her face is toward the west,

The purple land.

She cannot see the grain

Ripening on hill and plain;

She cannot feel the rain

Upon her hand.



Rest, rest, for evermore

Upon a mossy shore;

Rest, rest at the heart's core

Till time shall cease:

Sleep that no pain shall wake;

Night that no morn shall break

Till joy shall overtake

Her perfect peace
Bernadine Reyneke Tender - 15 years, 2 months, 6 days ago