On The Page

Follow

The flight of the north moving birds

Steady

The echo, the great moving herd

They fly through the night

Fill their wings and their sights

With cold air and pale shadowed moons

Oh lover, kid you not

Though we promised a lot

I must fly from you

So hold me

Sing me to sleep

On the crest of a late breaking wave

And write me

Into your thoughts

I'll be safe with the words on the page

Shadow

The light plays its own little games

Dream world

Its own silent claim to remain

And it'll follow you still

Through the streams and the hills

And remnants of gold autumn leaves

Oh lover, you can walk

But your shadow still stalks

From between the trees

So hold me

Sing me to sleep

On the crest of a late breaking wave

And write me

Into your thoughts

I'll be safe with the words on the page