The Bedroom

Candles flicker against your bedroom walls
You love the mood it makes once the curtain's drawn
I hear your records play through my wall next door
I lay like you across the floor

Can you please call out
I am alone like you, alone with nothing to do
And I promise, I won’t make a sound
Just want to lie with you
In your bedroom

Rain falls hard on those Friday nights
I’m bathed in orange under the street lamp light
From down here I see your window sill
From down here I watch you still

Can you please look down?
I am out here for you, soaked to the bone for you
I need you to warm up my soul
Take me up there
To your bedroom

The Jar marked Mercy

The jar marked Mercy is empty
It sits conspicuously on her shelf
Despite all the bric-a-brac and crockery
And the mugs stained with coffee
His eyes don’t take in much else

There still is Grace aplenty
And half a decanter of Doubt
The demijohn of Muse
She’s yet to consume
As her imagination has never run out

A carafe of Lust she keeps by the fire
Deep scarlet, fruity and smooth
Every evening she pours
A glass, or four
To help get them both in the mood

But it’s the empty jar of Mercy that concerns him
As from out the cupboard a gift wrapped in ribbon she pulls
It’s their anniversary today
And somehow he now needs to explain
His bottle of Forget was full