IF YOUR BLOOD HAS TURNED TO GINGER ALE...

If your blood has turned to ginger ale,

And the fizz won't go away,

If alone at midnight you are stuck,

Then listen as I say:

Dawn can only guess,

What Evening already knows,

And as the hours dance on by,

To music you can't hear,

Amid the ether of their gowns,

A dream will soon appear,

To calm your mind and ease the wait,

Through loneliness and fear,

The pendulum of Time,

Will promise comfort if you dare,

To trust your heart....and with no proof,

Ignore regret and doubt:

Hold onto hope above all else,

Though friend and foe alike,

May tire of your clockwork faith in love,

And pity you in spite.

©

Comments

[Gary Aulette]

Hey, didn't know you wrote poems. Thought it was just screenplay stuff. Anyway, I'm STILL waiting for your call. HURRY UP. G.

[Bobbie]

I love your poetry....It says so much and in such a different way. Yes, I have had those ginger ale moments, but unfortunately my clockwork faith has ticked its last...much sadder than the pity.

[Cousin Kathy]

Loved the poem. Love you. Wondering if ginger ale blood would mean less indigestion for me. ha ha Xoxo

[Angela Osborne]

It reads just as beautifully the second time as it did the first time I read it on your blog.