Aug., 2003
A guitar, wine, and Spanish eyes.
Dunes, a new moon, breathless sighs.
Neither one cared if colors would show
In the lightning’s flash or its afterglow.
Hair and eyes as dark as the night,
On Galveston beach we held so tight.
A part of my heart is still on the sand there,
A part of my mind still wants to go back there.
It didn’t end pretty and it didn’t end right,
But we still held on to that Galveston night.
Storm clouds calm, and slip to the East.
A half moon rises when expected least.
Hair and eyes as dark as the night,
On Galveston beach we held so tight.
A part of my heart is still on the sand there,
A part of my mind still wants to go back there.
Are we wiser now, or, still the same?
It’s hard to know if we don’t try again.
Would it be easy to see old wounds
In the pale gray light of a Texas full moon?
Hair and eyes as dark as the night,
On Galveston beach we held so tight.
A part of my heart is still on the sand there,
A part of my mind still wants to go back there.