Do you have stars in your mouth
she asks
And I laugh,
She's never tasted
Winter like I have
Midnights that linger
For days. Yes,
I tell her come see

Will there be breath
For a while, I whisper
And blow on her hands
But you will sing
And the aurora lights
Will walk across the ice

She lets me
Put my hands on her
Will I die? Her hair
Like snow
Yes. I tell her
Every time

What is song’s eternity?
Come and see.
Can it noise and bustle be?
Come and see.
Praises sung or praises said
Can it be?
Wait awhile and these are dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Be they high or lowly bred
They die.

What is song’s eternity?
Come and see.
Melodies of earth and sky,
Here they be.
Song once sung to Adam’s ears
Can it be?
Ballads of six thousand years
Thrive, thrive;
Songs awaken with the spheres
Alive.

Mighty songs that miss decay,
What are they?
Crowds and cities pass away
Like a day.
Books are out and books are read;
What are they?
Years will lay them with the dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Trifles unto nothing wed,
They die.

Dreamers, mark the honey bee;
Mark the tree
Where the blue cap “tootle tee”
Sings a glee
Sung to Adam and to Eve—
Here they be.
When floods covered every bough,
Noah’s ark
Heard that ballad singing now;
Hark, hark,

“Tootle tootle tootle tee”—
Can it be
Pride and fame must shadows be?
Come and see—
Every season owns her own;
Bird and bee
Sing creation’s music on;
Nature’s glee
Is in every mood and tone
Eternity.

Don’t feel the need to apologise,
Don’t be afraid to let go.
For I find myself mesmerised,
By the rambles from your soul.

Old and stained,
ragged and worn,
with holes and even
unraveled and torn.
Love is like your favorite sweater,
well used and seen all kinds of weather.
After a few years
and several loose threads,
there may be holes that need mending.
Don't get too worried my dear,
as long as the time that you're spending
is carefully piecing the threads back together.
Love is like your favorite sweater.