I saw you with that knowing smile,

Demure, and yet, quite willing to beguile;

Package, clutched tightly in hand,

Hoping that no one would see; dare.

But that did not seem to apply to me,

Cause I somehow knew I was the one;

Who could play with care and passion,

Upon it's strings and your very soul.

I boldly asked, (yet you said nothing)

Bout this thing so well concealed,

Till I removed it's outer garments,

A Rare Violin; it's inner self, to be revealed.

And I, with a madness all about me,

Dared clutch this thing so rare and true,

Unplayed by many hands before me,

Till along came I, to find it's inner tune.

The rare violin, long locked in silence,

Soaring to heaven as I stroked it's soul.

Daring to play like none before me,

Forever loosing myself in it's sound of you.

Tris

The Golden Ring Madness

I gave you a golden ring to hide,

About your person as you deem fit,

On condition I retrieve it, as I may

In ways and manner best liked by me.

And you, you wicked, wicked wanton girl,

In our maddening game of hide and seek,

Found a special place to hide that ring,

That would bind us closer than before.

It took nothing to remove your gown

And finding nothing golden there,

Anxious lips began to seek the prize,

Which found at last, you bid me stay awhile.

Tris