Yes it’s gonna be a cold, lonely summer
But I’ll fill the emptiness
I’ll send you all my dreams everyday in a letter
Sealed with a kiss: Sealed With A Kiss Gary Geld / Peter Udell
When I was going through my teenaged, romantic phase, a boy sent me a love letter via his cousin who was at school with me. It was sealed with wax and pressed with a ring that had his initials. Oh, how romantic. Oh, what pretentious mush.
An old piece, written in the days when I wrote. I only do slush reading now. This begs the question, (not a question for the ages, but) are you still a writer if you’ve stopped writing? Are you still a slush reader once you’ve stopped reading other people’s attempts at prose? I think yes to the first question and no to the second. You?
I’ve been thinking lately how nice it would be to push myself out of my comfort zone. I was watching some sort of documentary about American musicals last night. How did they do it? I wondered. I guess it’s the dilly type of question that people ask me who don’t write prose. You either can or you can’t is the answer when I’m having a lousy day of it.
I can’t but what the heck; I’ve given it a go. I have taken a trip, back to my past, to a time when things were less complicated. At least they were less complicated for the teenaged me.
I’ve written a song, (I don’t know what came over me) or at least I’ve written the lyrics. Forget about the melody or chorus. As a writer, I can kid myself that I know words. Mine are most definitely dated because my mindset and I are stuck in the 1960’s. That is my mindset but the teenager essence is missing. Between the ages of 13 to nineteen you are an alien living in and only relating to your own community. Thankfully (or sadly, depending on how you look at it) you come out of it when you reach 20 and can never revisit.
Singers today seem to swallow their words, but if I could understand them, I’m sure that I could relate to them too. I mean, the language or the way the sentiments are phrased would probably be foreign to my ears, but love is love, whether it’s ‘We found love in a hopeless place’ or ‘I’ll send you all my love in a letter sealed with a kiss’ (although I think that emailed or texted with a kiss would lose something in the translation).
Okay, I can’t put off the evil moment any longer. Here’s my yesterday song about an agonising teenager (is there any other kind?). Not very good even by those past standards and possibly not as good as today’s lyrics. But it’s my first (definitely my last), so don’t laugh too hard, will you?
PS.I haven’t got a title for it yet so if you’ve got any suggestions, go for it.
I love you, I love you, I love you
I don’t know what to do.
I tell my deepest thoughts to my pillow at night
But you don’t have a clue.
Every day to you is like another
And every face is the same.
If I came up and asked you about it
You wouldn’t even remember my name.
I love you to distraction
I think of you day and night
I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t concentrate
On anything but love.
My parents tell me to study
My sister says that I’m dumb
My friends all agree I should talk to you
But when I try to, I go all numb.
My heart beats faster
My face goes flush
I stutter and utter inane remarks
And then I blush.
I love you, I love you, I love you
I don’t know what to do.
My pillow knows all my deepest thoughts
But you don’t have a clue
Mary, I love your observations about life and the questions you pose that engages the reader, thank you.
Thanks for the visit, Kevin.
I read this yesterday, and then let it settle and read it again today. I think you have made a fine effort at songwriting, and captured that teenage angst I think we all remember so well.
One thing that used to happen to me was that other schoolfriends would zone in on the guy I had my heart set on, and when I’d say something to them about it, they’d reply, “Huh? We didn’t think you liked him. You NEVER spoke to him” 🙂
Those were the days, weren’t they? But that’s the trouble. If you and I can relate then those lyrics belong in the past. Wish I was there, betting you do too. 🙃
Mmmmm, not so much, except to be able to reclaim the passion and intensity of feeling of being a teenager. Other than that I usually tell people who wish to be sixteen again that the only thing that got me through that year was being too naive to realise what deep poo I was in.
How about going back as a teen with the wisdom of a something something adult?
Time travelling LOL
I’ve had a bottle of Chanel number 5 for over 20 years. It’s been my favourite scent for decades. Tiny bit left down the bottom and it still smells delicious. Haven’t the heart to toss it. I just close my eyes and it takes me back to my younger days. That’s a kind of time travel. But I sometimes speak before thinking (often) and forget that not everyone wants to go back. 🙂
Magnificent Mary. Do you have any musical friends? Lyrics sound different with music don’t you think? Could be fun to match a melody to your young and tender lines.
I have a musical son, Bruce. He’s a kind child, but did chuckle when he read those lyrics. I haven’t got the nerve to ask him to do anything with it. 🤭
Maybe your husband, Mary? You didn’t mention he is musically talented. A collaboration close to home. Some songs have pretty ordinary lyrics but combined with a catchy melody, you could have a hit on your hands!
My husband Is a musician and has been a music teacher. 🤭
How lucky he is. I’d like to play piano and every now and then I get out the keyboard and play ‘You are my sunshine’.
Lots of time to practice. I’m finally going to learn to play chess. (No excuse to wimp out 🤭)
Chess is good if you have patience. As for time, I get very little for practicing.
Just ten minutes of Fur Elise and a couple of chopsticks a day? 🤭
I looked up the Furry little Elise on YouTube. Very funny. I’d be fingers and thumbs all over the place.
You tube is wonderful. You tube taught me How to create an attractive fruit platter and how to sew up granny squares with an invisible seam.