I feel like a wild flower ,
a flower born too soon .
Wilted early and
now dried up to the root .

I want to say I loved it all
But I had no chance to feel at all .

Anxious for the death of me and ready for another chance .

I spoke to the moon and she spoke to me,
She complained about the sun as i complained about u,
She complained of their differences him being gold her being grey,
I too complained about me and u how i tried to be red when you were always blue,
And just like me and u they never saw each other too,
She said he was always late and he left a little bit early too,
Darling don't u see the story of the sun and the moon is the story of me and u.

The sun is already warming
the first arousal of morning
but my lover is traveling the hills
and valleys of her dreams still.

Sweetpea knows the sounds
of my awakening and abounds
onto the bed’s corner place
where I read my first daily stirring of grace.

She knows of all the places she could land
it is here she gets the glide of my left hand
my hand across her soft brown coat she is well-versed
for she knows this time of day she is first.

“Feline First,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier

Run, run little rabbit,
Run far away from me,
Go, go little rabbit,
Go where I can’t see
Far, far my beloved
Far from my hungry eyes
Hide, hide my beloved
Hide from all my lies,
Quick, quick fragile flower,
Quick to turn around,
Fast, fast fragile flower,
Fast before I pound,
Down, down little rabbit,
Down before you fall,
Poor, poor little rabbit,
Poor to  listen to my call.