At trees reunited or the Great Timber-yard in the sky
There are certain branches
who remember the incisions made
to fell their growth.
spurts & seasons,
and the wind rustling
through imagined leaves of
appendages long gone

All the gunge
symptomatic of sap coagulated
won't replace the
holes in the sky

© Copyright David Bosworth August 2013

and i would paint a big sky
but nothing's changed

© Copyright David Bosworth August 2013

no me neither

© Copyright David Bosworth August 2013

nobody told me
I was
I just made it up
It's far too easy to be comforted in your own
..****.. you know what I'm getting at
So strum a guitar chord
That sounds like someone swore
And                                                  lookin­g upon the curved silver lining of that barren orb..I'll wait for
you

© Copyright David Bosworth August 2013

a love asphyxia
some thinking fabric in the universe . She's there. when you expect to be expected
In, or just dreaming
An emerald valve for the hurried, bloodied, sullied
happening
oh, to all of us - please let us be happy

© Copyright David Bosworth July 2013

The name stood tall, long, indifferent, but beautiful
He was equivocally terrified
But equally, at peace, at the sight .
She was an angel,
she was a transcript from a beautiful future
She held his fingers from a silk rope
Calling

Flabbergasted, you realise how simply wet around the ears you are

© Copyright David Bosworth July 2013

She wasn't what you'd expect. Raw sunlight
doesn't feel like that either

© Copyright David Bosworth May 2013