kind of in awe of
you Life is this ball of
rolling momentum
too and why not stop
and smell the roses

making wind chimes
from hard knocks
a city rose on a
dilapidated block  I
draw the moisture from
the heir She pulls jewels
out of coal mines like me

born on third but feels like home
Didn't even have to hit it
the path was      well    
warm   and        well      lit
but no one reads any more
So the bitter is lost on the sweet

in love but yet not
In love the brush strokes are
small slow whispers of friction
the distinction comes in step
ping a way through the
looking glass
Now I cherish the clasp
She lives in my lap

realizing that I love her