We  
speak
in flowers,
     heady blooms    
     and English    
Tea rose
     buds**.
     ~ *Taking    
                 scents    
                         to nose,    
                                             & to a                      
                                         ­       hearts'                      
                                                             ­ blank                                      
                    ­   book

papered white,
there is one wall in
  his room of spines for
 a  muse. His beautiful
   abstraction ~ carved
  &   polished    ~
       hung as his     
hourglass;
Inverting
light & time
with a resonance  
of understanding as
beads of fiction fall*


    *Colouring other walls vibrant          
                           these spines shine      
                                   with jewels        
                             imbibing     
                           his souls'             
         faceted    
         light              
with       
            hope                  

        *      *   free    *         *            
                 her        *        *         
*          

. even' .
closer    let me
   feel you,      whole,
  as      our darkness
brims full     again
with pearlised
. light .
         

Toes                                    
         curl over                         a grassy ledge
above a raging sea            Whispers
on the wind say nothing to
save descents to me

You*
stand       there
- naked          & exhausted -
 a silhouette at   twilight;     Bowing to
the     end    of seasons     as a final gold tear
spins...    down   into shadows that lengthen, on this
  brighter day. . .       I will remember,        creaks out  
       from   an open spread of  arms in     a vast greying sky;      
Heard, by listening ears,    which embrace each darkness.
     Every  barest  recollection  -of ever changing filigree        
   falling silently to loom,           (hungry worms    
              feast far below)       where once               
           warmth    shimmered       
         in gentle breezes-      
             Alive forever          
                                               within*  *the                                             
    sleep of our trees.

Curtains up
NOW OWN
~IT~

AS IF
  you're the King
   of the whole
    **** stage  

when

you're
really
  just another
player

acting out
for those
cheap seats
you survey

Where else
****
HERE

would
THEY
get to see
such a
[defamation]
-free play?"

(laughing)

"Best you
throw some sweets.

*Indulge them

...I'd say!
...I'd say!"


The Evil Queen 
smirks
&
a knife glints in her hand

Is
she
creeping
up

Behind You?
(or... does she need a real man?)


Ahhhh!!

    you see...

she's
exhausted
A-LADD-IN
& she knows
where to find you..

(evil laughter)

Ohhhh!

It's
just as well
you're in costume
...now  remember
your lines

"Don't props (& illusions) make a jolly good night!"

and baby, *WOW!

you look
Oh! Soooo cute
in those tights!

                                  *and with a sweep of the stage, the smirking Queen exits >               right

This stage
is all yours now

So Buttons...    take a bow
(us Brits love an underdog in a fight)

... Make your bow deep
~with a flourish of resplendence~
that captures their hearts

try more than That wiggle
-and a lot more-
than one dance!

                       To do it well...                                                          ­              
get a catchphrase

(which we'll ALL lurvey darlink from the start)

Believe me,
is good

Always
is
    another...

try
the one
    you've used in  
   rehearsals with the
  Stepsisters
- all dragged up-
looking
L
   O      
       V      U
          E            G
               L       L      
                                                 Y              (like their mother)

                                                      
 ­                                   cough                       ­ 
                        
                                **** it..
                               Everyone chokes
                               on the dry ice that swirls!

                     The audience ponders....

WHO's the boys ?

THAT's... a... girl ?!  

 
                            &
                      in
                 the
               low
             glow   
            they'll see      
    Cinders singing
of loves' sweet melody,
  those s l o w shoe shuffles    
        softly sliding across their        
                                             t
                                                   r
                                 ­                        a
                                                               ­ p
                                                              ­                             door hearts  
Laughing & crying along through
each emotion of the tattered  
sweet princess, who     
         simply hasn't had        
                     a Prince in her...                
    winks
                           sights             
                                  (YET!)  
       
then
  Act II ends
with

a Flash!
&
a Bang!

 
They all lived  
ever after...
      
Cinders' happy?

*THE END

Jesus never complained**
Should we?

Do not allow
yourself         to be
a product
                              of your generation
but rather
let your generation
be
    a product        
                   of you