Sometime in the summer
heat or in the winter freeze,
I am either wanting you or you are wanting me,
Seasons are excuses.
Often in the
wilderness of mountain park and trail,
Hand in hand we walk the paths, and hearts do beat as one,
Mountains are excuses.
Frequenting a dark
café, I gaze into your eyes,
Smell your perfume, feel your touch and whisper in your ear,
Cafés are excuses.
Sitting at the
movie, in the back and in the dark,
What is on the big-screen isn't what it's all
about,
Movies are excuses.
Gently as I lay you
down upon the satin sheets,
In this bedroom of desire, entwining souls for life,
Bedrooms are excuses.
Here forever you and
me, just living life and love,
Summer, winter, mountain park or in a dark café,
Now, no more excuses.
by David
Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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