Her ivory hands on the ivory keys
Strayed in a fitful fantasy,
Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees
Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly,
Or the drifting foam of a restless sea
When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.

Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold
Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun
On the burnished disk of the marigold,
Or the sunflower turning to meet the sun
When the gloom of the dark blue night is done,
And the spear of the lily is aureoled.

And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine
Burned like the ruby fire set
In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine,
Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate,
Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet
With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.

Fog does not crawl
Like people do
He doesn't beg on hand and knee

Fog does not conceal
What is looming there
He just let's it disappear

Fog does not revive
The demons and the dead
He just pulls them from your head

What are you reading?
Words, words, words—
Hamlet was right!

I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.

Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.

Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.

I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.

If my mind were a galaxy,
You would be every twinkling star,
Every asteroid in the belt, every racing comet,
And every moon orbiting the planets.

If my mind were the ocean,
You’d be the billions of water molecules,
The crashing waves, the grains of salt,
And the infinite number of fishes.

But if your mind were either of these,
I’d be but a speck of space dust,
And a creature in the deep abyss;
Invisible and almost non-existent.