The Night After Saint Patrick's Day

Wish this night wouldn't last so long.

Wish you could be here with me,

I could use the company.

I like the way you laugh

when I get too serious.

Almost Springtime

I know how it feels to live in the light now,

since I know you.

I know what complete love feels like,

since I know you.

And my best friend feels so good

when my hand is on her shoulder,

I smoothe her hair over the pillow

and I kiss her goodnight.

Your Name Isn't Joan Anymore, Is It?

We met a thousand years ago, somewhere in the north of France under an August sun. And when skin touched skin the sparks flew all the way to heaven, all the way to Rouen. And we both thanked God, for the joy we felt.

And I was there when the dirty cowards burned you, almost five hundred years later. When it was over I pulled my dagger and killed the weasel faced priest who lit your pyre. Your burning is over, his is still going on....

And now you're back in my life again, same bright eyes, same page boy haircut. It's almost six hundred years later now, do you think we can get it right this time? I hope so, but if not I'll still hold your hand and pour cool water on your skin.