Puppet

I'll wait among the segoliles, and dance with the willow's strings
holding me swaying me to the beat of thunder.
I sway, I sing.
Of wooden hearts and metal eyes.
They follow, I listen.

You glid among the mossy trees
and hold a single paddle
that whistles through the chill night
and hums throughout the garden flowers
that glow in the lamp you happen to carry

Through Venice's watery gardens,
I tiptoe through the posies and
hide among the rose bushes
that define me.

But you never come.
I see you in the distance
slithering like smoke
and flighting like devil wings.
Feilds of grey falter in the moonlight
and leave me bare and cold,
Like the hidden ocean in the dark.

But I'll wait by the segoliles and the dancing tulips
until you decide to chase me
through meadows of barb wire
and mines.

Cause I'll hold you to it,
To all those promises you made to me.
I'll hold your metal eyes like the willow strings hold me
and my wooden heart

Limp and frail you finally find me,
No master of the willow carries me.
My eyes are closed and yours are wide
but that's the secret of life.