My heart is a patchwork
Of geometric scraps
Sectioned off one by one
Quilted for protection

Wail 'n' whine of the saxman's blues
The syncopated sizzle of the drum kit
Trinkle, ****** of fingers fervent
The jigsaw jazz of a cubist portrait

The story of affection is told in two volumes
One of the calmness and balance of reason
The other of rabid and base emotion
One taking year upon year to cure
The other infinite and ever pure
 
Some say having both is but an agreeable dream
But I say no, for I have seen it so
And it is all of the wonder and glory one would suspect
Each possessing both volumes, passion and respect
 
And if it exists, it shall be my quest
To search for these volumes and take no rest
Until I have found that which I seek
And of true love I too can speak!

Beside a simple farmhouse
There stands a useful shed
Sturdy in its crooked way
Loyal sentry till the end

The great men meet
To decide our fate
To consult their god
In Wonderland's gate

If I could grant you one wish
Happiness it would be
To see all the wonders
That Alice did see

My life is well arranged
Neat, tidy and clean
Sharp at all four corners
An intruder-proof scheme

A stately, noble visage
Multiplied many times
Proudly mans the shoreline
A spirit lost in time

Deities carved of stone
“Primitive” one might say
Meanwhile, in the sky above
An unseen God holds sway

Forget the math
Just for tonight
Souls entangled
Embracing strife