Look to the sky and absorb the blue but you will never see paradise’ entry,

It’s a door framed with blue of sky with an air curtain that’s impossible to see,

Touch a dream or let a dream touch you to set sail upon a magic vessel of love,

Hold her photograph near and pull her to your heart before traveling above,

In a vessel made of air you set sail into the sky to discover the secret of love,

The “secret” if known may settle the world or it may test what you’re made of,

I love and I have loved so deeply I thought my heart would rupture from pain,

I’m a rare bird I am, I fly the sky fueled by but her touch, I am worn and plain,

If truth be known she was thirteen when love erupted within my heart forever,

When told I was too young to love at seventeen and to move on, I replied never,

I’m am not a fisherman by trade nor do I want to know other fish in the sea,

Beautiful Patti is my dream girl and upon waking she is the angel I wish to see,

I have kissed her lips to have my heart set sail and lift me above Mother Earth,

The riches of the earth have been granted me to find her in the city of my birth,

A big blue sky is forever overhead in my little town of Borger Texas by name,

Two souls perfectly placed through time that they may again unite the same,

My beautiful little town bore the brunt of providing men of steel for the war,

Though fear filled every pore and tears of goodbye flowed freely, tears I wore,

I’ve but one dear friend remaining that was drafted away from all he knew,

He carries the remnants of that war deep inside as we all will have to do,

I met the enemy head on in a cell of Russian command with brutality abound,

In a moment of dark desperation I cried to be free of the pain of being bound,

I carry shame that I cried “mama” as I faded into the darkness of war’s travesty,

And worse I cried Patti’s name also in hope she would once more appear to me,

Amarillo means yellow for the gold she holds beneath her gold enriched soil,

The city was born of necessity on the flat panhandle of Texas to sell what they toil,

Men of steel were developed upon the plains of wind and sometimes crystal skies,

And we were chosen unfairly it was discovered as another widowed mother cries,

Those of us with the wealth of good fortune returned to the girls with our heart,

So desperately I prayed that she would welcome me home so we could start,

To blue summer skies I returned to the goddess of my dreams since seventeen,

Decimated from a long hospital stay I came home although I came home lean,

Her eyes excite me so much with but a blink and a sparkle of reflecting moon,

I came “home” from war but my home no longer contained my personal room,

All I needed was a little time to get my feet on the ground and start over again,

Most of all, upon the land I so love her touch gave my heart lift, we could begin.

The end, by Pat November 1969