Featured art by Brooke Shaden. Click title image to visit her studio.
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Tori Amos “Precious Things (Instrumental)”
Lost, little girl
Found
Go hide and I’ll seek
Get dressed into your best evening gown
You have my solemn vow I’ll not peek
For a gentleman would never dream of acting out of keeping
Would do well to hold peerless esteem for the one simply known to me as She
Lost, little girl
But I always did know I would find you
Dream big, little girl
Live your life the very same way
Achieve all of the goals you set out to achieve
Don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t
I know you won’t
For you taught me I can
That expectations are only there to be exceeded
To search within and that I will see this
Now I dream big, little girl
And it was you who reminded me I can
Live loud and proud, little girl
No states and no boundaries
Just a cool mountain breeze and an ocean of waters serene
Life will do its worst to see you falter
Should you fail to fall into the deepest of sleeps
No rules here to abide by
No reason not to ponder the sigil
For it highlights a bridleway
to those who keep vigil
You live loud and proud, little girl
And I shall do just the same in your name
Smile wide, little girl
Wear your jubilation for all to discern
After so much heartbreak they cannot say you haven’t earned it
The path it may be crooked
But every corner that you’ve turned
Opens the door to a long detained smile
One which nobody can ever take away from you
For such a treasured manifest gives others inspiration to better dress their own
You smile wide, little girl
And others do too as a result
Leap far, little girl
Raise the balls of your dainty bare feet from the earth
Assume your position
And spread your toes to span
No need to look down
There is nothing beneath
At least, little of any great renown
Grace it need not fall
When the altitude is sound
You leap far, little girl
And your flight path is profound
Rise up, little girl
Like a hundred year oak
Let every last branch tell a tale
Wear a knot in your rind for each time you have failed
Weep your crystalline tears when Autumn it falls
They shall warm you during winter most bleak
Find a second spring
And your leaves in bloom shall be
A most fitting gown
For the ghost in the tree
You rise up like no other, little girl
And I am deeply honored to take your lead
Check the shadows, little girl
Most thoroughly
Not for spectres to inspect
Evil wraiths to displace
But the spirit of undisclosed truth to embrace
Tis here that the true answers lie
Tis nothing to fear once your eyes fade to black
The Cimmerian shade of the left-bearing path
Need not spirit away
Has no need to force ones hand
For it only asks for this last waltz
You showed me how to check the shadows, little girl
And now we dance in light amidst the shade
Never ever surrender your softness, little girl
For it is deep within the fire clay of darkness you redeem it
Never once will you flinch as the steam hisses around you
Never once will you be pitched to or penned in by the shadows which surround you
Once you begin to retrograde
The inner child shall begin to play
As she hopscotches through any barricade
And each daring raid leads to some place compelling
No debts unpaid for each kiss bids to tell
The taste on your lips is the one you know well
You never ever surrendered your softness, little girl
Thus, I’m no longer trapped in my shell
You are the one, little girl
I see something in you that reminds me of me
You see, I too care to dream
And these dreams are monolithic
I smile when I wake
Never ever fail to make faith pay and leap in
Rise up in your shadows
Live loud and most proudly
Recline in the bosom of your softness
Indeed, if I were to have one dying request
Then that wish would be
Very simply
To see you achieve every dream and many more
From wherever that vantage may be
If I am to die before such time as I awaken
Then as you very well know
My deepest soul I betroth to you
You are the one, little girl
You are the immaculate vision I seeked far and wide for
And with my infinite being as witness
I shall be the same for you
For it was I who was lost, little girl
Until you delivered me
Home
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill



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