"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

It is so much fun making things.
Cutting construction paper,
and printing pictures from the computer,
and making solar system posters,
with colorful comets, and nebulas.
But without my good friend Elmers glue
I don't know what I would do.

Just a dot, and spread it around,
and you can stick Ganymede next to Jupiter,
and make all kinds of cool collages.

You can make little game pieces,
and play galaxy battles with grandpa,
but without Elmers glue
everything would fall apart,
and all the papers would seperate,
and nothing would work!

That's why I love Elmers glue.
Its like love,
because it fixes little broken plastic hearts,
and keeps beautiful pictures, and strong paper together,
so that you can make beautiful and strong things,
which is what love is.

So you can sort of say
that Elmers glue, kind of
is love.
Which is why I love it!

consider
the field is never always smooth;
there are times that the grass turns brown
and the flowers wilt and their petals
return to the ground
…consider these things…
what was a frolicing maid becomes a hag;
the virulent man shrivels and becomes incapable
and so the sky, never always clear and boundless
and so the clouds, not always childhood pleasantries
but they come into chaos and dreariness
and pile dollops of dark humor
and so our lives,
darlings, O sweet ones -
regard these things well -
and so our lives too pass from radiant days
to gasp below dreary shades
from a happy, happy song to a dirge over the dale –
and not all our rosaries and beads and prayers and faith
nothing will halt, in spite of stories they recite,
nothing will halt the sun and the passage of time
and so like the artist it is best to observe
like the artist in the field
capture the moment, savor the life
and if anything, make of one’s life a beauty
that others may pause to gaze at
as pausing to gaze at a rose, the cherry blossoms…
be you makers of beauty,
darlings, O darlings, consider these things
O sweet ones…