My world is not of the written word
It cannot be numbered
held captive on a so called page

My world is liquid
as sea , rain , snow or ice
It can be hot , cold , or entice

My world is cloudy
It thunders after it flashes light
My world is wrong , my world is right

There are no words that bind my life
I won't be delegated
to exist in the black on white

I will not be staved
by the limited sways
of the written words upon the page

Trying to understand this suffering sky,
I wonder why you paint it dark
breaking stares by ravishing storms
and blues at times, cause so do I.
Your true spark there it belongs
wonderful abyss that can’t ever be denied...

Empathy, chemical reaction to my thoughts,
rebel emotions on skin we wrote like
through your fingers drops of soul,
pure water, infinite source of light
love, you and so I did grow fond of.

Rain falls only on this face of mine
reflecting all smiles I make wildly
catching your words like souls in flight,
hearing sounds of precious stones and intensity,
sunbeams transfix my eyes
widening the esteem of immensity...

The sunset with it’s rumble,
whispers of a starry sky,  
warm wind,a striking rainbow,
fluffy clouds to admire,
it’s time…

Go…

She used the stars as her blanket, the moon was her pillow
Her name is carried on every limb of every weeping willow  

The winds of change she often road
A free wild soul, through the cosmos she flowed

In the Milky Way she liked dipping in her toes
Can't you see the silver ripples as they flow

When on Saturn's rings she would go for a twirl
That shinny raven night hair always waved out behind her

She would wash her soul clean in Jupiter's  falls
She always loved listening to that planets howling wind's calls

But now  she sits on the Dark Side of the Moon
In her twinkling dark eyes, tears are in bloom

They are flowing down her checks, falling out into space
She is crying because she finally got a look at this pathetic human race

Saddened and sicken by what she saw
She jetted of into the cosmos, never to return at all

Now we can only tell stories of that raven haired beauty, as we set beside her shore
It is a sea of her tears, when the sorrowful ways of man she could take no more