The bush burns brightly in the freshly laid snow When the light of the sun sets it aglow Like a apple of gold in a silver picture The scene It breathes the proverbial scripture
The face that lives inside the ink blot is content today not to stir the *** To disturb the peace is to break the lease with the only friend the man has got
If he has the blues for more than a day He bellies up to the bar to chase them away Soaks up the ***** Goes home to snooze And when he wakes there’s hell to pay
The stains from my coffee dropped onto the paper Then, randomly folded into deliberate pleats Revealed to me the nature of it’s purpose The place where the clouds of imagination can meet
The burden of rapture all swollen in sadness is love that’s a fever that descends into madness Yet, this perfect poison is gladly taken like a classic martini Stirred but not shaken