Like chimes ringing out the uniting of souls in a ceremony
That is in every culture. as passionate and as ancient as it is
Sacred and holy, come the laughs, the giggles as unto like a birdsong
From some feather encrusted gem colored concerto soloist on the
Wing in the caress of the night's breeze as it carries it along.
Laughs muffled and secreted in some shadowed cove all their own,
The pecial sounds that belong only to the chosen passionate ones
That have found the one that their soul knows instinctively is the
One, the only one, that they will ever desire, crave for, or need.
And to my ears they ring with one chorus repetively, a one word
Chorus, in the same key, "Alone, alone, solo, solo, alone."
My spirit answers in a minor chord, "Why, like some, am I still alone?"

Simple steps, the sound of mutual treading down a path through a
Park, stars twinkling above, a choir of shimmering universal dancers dressed in
Gossamer gowns of red, white, blue and green, the moon dictates the softness of the
Light of the Night, like some gentle conductor She indicates that it must be
A composition befitting the music of all lovers right, as I see her lay
Her head on his shoulder as they walk in quiet syncopation to the beat
Of the breeze, as gentle as he is when he smiles down at her sole right to
This intimacy, a sight that glows as bright as a meteor shower in a sky not dimmed
By the neon fakeness of the rest of civilization, oh how my soul joins
In the rhythm of the sight, "Some are still alone, why must one be one like me?"

Childrens glee is mirrored in the tinkling of the laughter of their joy
As they let the gentle waves chase them back to the shore, then they pursue
Them back out into the waves world they turn again and run, only to turn back
To the shore, oh the way the air just vibrates with that blissful sound
Once again of their voices lifted in the chorus of their own unique song.
In someone's arms ore the water another voice is begging in a tempting, teasing,
Taunting tune, to please not drop them, no please don't splash them, all the while
The background drum like beat is the beat of the water as it is indeed cast
The way of the one who in tantalizing teasing for it is craving, waiting, like lace
Of white that trims the soon to be worn bride's gown - from my lips fall
The words, my litany now, "Some still alone, oh why must I be counted among
That throng?"

No one can know what I truly mean
No one can feel what I miss so deeply
No one can understand the secret part of what is gone
No one can know what knowing what another is thinking
Without having to form the words of the question and letting
The words from your lips fall - unless -
Oh unless they have felt it all.

They have been part of the couple that walked through the night
They have been the silent pair that walked parting the shadows of the Night.
They have watched, as two not one, the children in playfulness splash.
They have been held in the water, in the arms of their lover as like
The children the two of them have played.
They have awoken in the morning to the smile of the mate to their soul
As softly come the words, 'Good morning my love.'
They would have to have known all of this, to understand how discordant
The Notes can be, when they awake to another day, still alone, oh how
I find that tune so very lonely.