Take from my heart
this tender part
that longs to find
in you the same.
Too much to keep,
to hurt to fly,
afraid to play
a losing lovers' game.
And so in stone
it finds a home;
for if it hurts
then I'm the one to blame.

My book has empty pages
that only you can write.
I'll turn them, leave them blank.
I'm giving up the fight.
I could search forever
and wonder what they'd say.
But time will leave them empty-
words gone, just as those days.
Still my heart will wonder
if I m in your book?
Did I leave some pages empty?
Do you ever take a look?
The story is unfinished,
it's trapped in times before.
But words I cannot read
will echo evermore.

Where is joy?
In that flower.
Can you climb inside with me?
Where is sweetness?
In the nectar,
carried far by bees.
For they know what we don't
that joy and sweetness must be spread
and life doesn't give the right
to hold it all,
all the time.
Don't stop the bees.
They'll come again,
if you wait.

ripped out
ripped out?
no, crushed
stomped on, left in place
still beating but out of time with life
fighting against the weight left behind
when they’d had enough and trashed the rest and you’re buried in the pile
waiting for another need to surface.
there’s no jump start,
no rhythm boost to make you beat in time again
with life that spills on along
poured from heaven on the happy ones
the fortunate ones
the companions.
time heals all wounds
and wounds all heels.
no vengeance in that
when knowing it uncovers a bruise, forgotten, a last piece un-plumped,
un-recovered.
Love fill it for me.

When dreams become
nightmares that
twist in the brain,
how long can love
in the heart remain?
Will nothing ever
quench the flame
or fill the
lonely spaces?
As always it's you,
the affliction
and the cure.

fortune made us friends,
gave us common minds to share
speaking true you tell me often
what I need to hear.
let's accept what is,
and relish time it has,
view what new perspectives it may show.
truest friendship
rarely found;
when to it
we can let ourselves be known.

Time can be squandered, endured,
or enjoyed;
on your side, it is friend,
running out, a foe.

It's all we have to make life
worth living;
more can't be given,
but it's well spent in giving.