Shadows line the walls of the room
A clock keeps time, aching moon
Lights are low, I turn the page
The walls whisper their age

Oh, where will we travel tonight, my dearest love
Oh how I long to enter your world
Will your arms take me afar 
To distant lands where we will
Warm ourselves on hot sands.

Stories capture other times
And I read between the lines

Just like sand inside my shoe 
I feel you slipping inside
And I will carry you far

© KARA JOHNSTAD

Album | Pages of Sand
Artist | Kara Johnstad