To the being - lost with love.
Bring him some - a healthy dove.
The aching time - I'm lost too.
The arching rhymes - the hopeful few.
Where's my love? Is she born?
I'll crawl through the creek and storm.
To make a wish - rushed but true.
Lead us towards something new.

With fists full of wheat pipes
we jump on a whim.
We'll shower the gardens with
gallons of sins.
We wear a posthuman poison
like a three-piece suite.
The love of this generation
is an empty truth.

I'm crackling with energy,
Shining with power,
It's my hour,
To be extraordinary.

near the water, 'n verdant rushes,
on a summer evening late,
hiding 'neath the dog-rose bushes
where pond-skaters feed and mate,
on the slithery grassy *****
above the bank of sand
there I saw Joy and Hope
sitting hand in hand

ere the golden crimson sun
had disappeared 'neath the waters
ere the twilight had begun
ere daylight sought its quarters
I heard the sound of echo'd laughter
as ripples in the water
as a melody from hereafter
sound of Joy and Hope that sought her

gone were the works of man,
steel and concrete temple,
gone were the ordered plans
of buildings regimental,
gone were the pinks and greys
of black 'n urban roadways,
all i saw was light of day
aflame with gold, salmon sun-ray