Squeals of pure delight filled the air As the wind blew through Louisa's hair She was outside playing with her sisters, you see And the young girls were a sight of endless glee Without a care in the world, they passed the time It's true the best things in life don't cost a dime Life, in this moment, was truly, wonderfully grand A joy so strong they could hardly withstand A lifetime's worth of elation precured And of course this enchantingly occurred All in a golden afternoon Under the skies of cloudless blue

Every single day, When you and I went out To play, We’d go until forever Without a doubt.

We’d prance around A bright field of flowers For hours On end, the only sound To be heard, No, It wasn’t a bird, It was our gleeful cheers Of joy and bliss.

We’d dance together Under the shade of lush trees, This feeling of ease, It could go on forever, Especially with the peace Of the calming breeze.

We’d have a magical time, In our prime. All in a golden afternoon, Under the skies of cloudless blue.

All in a golden afternoon, under the skies of cloudless blue.

Maybe it was you, or the whispering caress that scraped along the nape of my neck. Distant and warm. Featherlight and breezy. A mother’s touch.

Our thoughts entangle, fingers intertwine. Our backs pressed to the earth, soil clinging to the fabrics of our clothes.
__ _ (we’re alike, i’d like to think. do you think?)_ __

Can you hear my words? My stories and songs? Or do you listen more to the birds singing underwhelming tunes? The rustle of fallen leaves, plucked from their designated branches?

I try to pick at your turning brain. I try to smear off the lingering sparks of golden residue from your mind, from your lips.

I bring the unnamed residue to my own lips. I part them, and you taste of honey and silken wonders. Your thoughts collide with my tastebuds and I fear I don’t want to taste anything more.

_ (it isn’t obsession, it is an aching i can’t fully fathom.)_

The lump within my throat bobs when I swallow you down.

I’ve fallen silent. Filling that silence was now your words. Your strung out stories underneath the blue sky.

There are no clouds to point out and muse over, so instead you point out the way my eyes have a golden lilt underneath the kissing sun. Or how my freckles dapple awkwardly beneath my lower lip.

I’m not listening to the cadences of the birds as you had been (neither the rustling of falling leaves). I’m drinking you in.

Just as you are with me.

You tell me you don’t listen well, but it seems that your eyes work wonders when they wish to. Your tongue can run miles upon miles and I wouldn’t get sick of it.

The grass and greenery is nice, but it wilts. I’ve never faced a day you’ve wilted. No afternoon has had your perfectly golden smile dimmed or has had your skin blue in exhaust.

I’m peeling off your layers, yearning to see all of you.

(All in a golden afternoon, under the skies of cloudless blue.)

Waves gently flow against the shore, While trees sway in that gentle ocean breeze, Basking in the warm sun, With feet dug snug into the warm sand, They sleep soundly, Listining to the soft sound of those beautiful ocean waves, All in a golden afternoon, Under the skies of cloudless blue.

Lost in a field of daisies I found you. You told me the story about the girl you followed down the rabbit hole. I told you my story of the mad hatter and all of his heinous requests to make me small. You were curious and I was curiouser. I told you I wished I hadn’t cried so much and You told me you wished you hadn’t drank so much. We knew who we were when we woke up this morning but so much has changed since then. We were cats without grins in search of that damn caterpillar. With him we could turn these tears to laughter, And come to realization we are all mad here. Even if we were late, that doesn’t mean we can’t begin All in a golden afternoon Under the skies of cloudless blue.

All in a golden afternoon Under the skies of cloudless blue Trees sway in the light of day Every which way from a gentle wind blowing Never to be known where it’s going Brown boots laced up tight as can be Dozing off in a feild of wildflowers Longing for the day I will at last be free Flowers full of color and bees come buzzing Swarming around my head looking for something sweet Looking into the spring sun as bright as can be The bees never bother me For I am free As I’ll ever be All in a golden afternoon Under the skies of cloudless blue

all the golden afternoon all the afternoon are golden sun is the gold its the most beautiful thing u could look it might burn ur eyes but uts the beauty of the spring and summer golden afternoon is like the sunshine under skies of cloudless blue sky is blue the its like u can fly on the blue skies its the best thing that u could look at when ur awake

All in a golden afternoon, under the skies of cloudless blue, Laid a body much to cold to be real, Fiery hair bright like lava, singed the ground dark and true, Emerald eyes vast and vacant, saw the truth none should see, For beyond those cloudless blues, something putrid watched with glee. It writhes and pulses among the stars, singing a ballad of lies and scars. Rotten skin, thick with tar, sees through cracks both near and far, A visage that rips and tears, looks for those too aware. So for those who see far beyond be aware of the thing that rots. Beneath the seams and cracks gleeful eyes do stare back.

‘All in a golden afternoon, under the skies of cloudless blue.’ My eyes scrunched and wincing But how can I? How can I look away? The Sun is slowly, gently kissing your cheeks. And the wind... Oh, the wind. She loves play. The wind tosses your hair, here and there as she runs and dances through the trees, valleys; and rolls over the fields. Closing the distance one step, one skip at a time yet, not fast enough. I cannot look away! I yearn to gaze, to be consumed and drowned by the deepest oceans. To watch the final rays of gold flicker and slice through the surface. To let go. To become one spirit, one mind, yet two bodies will remain, all in a golden afternoon.

A golden afternoon, clouds alight with fire, Where the sky plays with lives, Mortality a passing whim.

Is pleasure not enough? Is pain not yet old? What other novelties will you reach to unfold?

Distracted by pleasure, Consumed with pain, An egotistic touch Lines every passing day.

Can you not hear their pleas? They beg for their king. But the one who shines cares not for their shrines, His mind is possessed with dreams of ascent, His days spent climbing, Ignoring their crying.

Now, the sky meets his own, A mind born from wisdom and war. The favored heir with the god of gods Meet in a grove of golden promise. The sky delights and sings his praise, But only ‘til he feels the blade.

Sweet, golden liquid flows, Mortality as no god has known Finds the sky and claims him here, Betrayed by one with plots untold.

She drinks upon his life, his vigor, Power now hers eternal. She looks above, claiming her reign, All in a golden afternoon, Under the skies of cloudless blue.