She saw him as her white knight
so handsome so bold
just a wee bit crazy...
or so I've been told

He saw her as his pesky imp
sent to pull him from his hole
just a little quirky...
or so I've been told

He taught her of Jesus
she loosened his gears
he tuned up her mind
she lessened his fears

He quoted Shakespeare
while creating with clay
she created with words
while blasting reggae

Deep conversations
through some she would snore
spirited banter
midieval lore

They danced in the rain
from the ceiling it poured
made love in the meadow
in a bus that he towed

Oh how they laughed
made  words of their own
never thrived in calm winds
they bloomed in a storm

Now the last that I heard...
they'd sailed off on their boat
with the pie-eyed parrot
and a bleating baby goat

They're crazy and quirky
now wrinkled and old
sailing to Neverland...
or so I've been told