Swirling circles, on this burgundy sheet,
Wondering true of why false people I meet.
Moving stars rotate high around this sphere,
Scared of words unspoken, those spoken words to fear.

Amber cool mixing through minds not known,
Plastic smile as wrong, as wrong as death's ring tone,
Men and women to out do, try to out last the other,
Cheap attire brought last once, from a forgotten lover.

Chattering as loud, as squawking crows, over death,
Take your hand, squeezing, your stale last breath,
To endure nights shroud, a night as many as this,
Stay at home, you say maybe, give a night like this amiss.

Heart! Even now, alone, content, why do you speak?
Pickin' those tender twinned strings of your lyre
With your fingers slender; casting your song to seek
Oil painted visions of her sweet drenching figure,
Shining golden light over her warms my pumping blood.
Why? Why do I care? The eyes alert have seen
What ears failed to detect; messages which easily could
Cause faint trouble of blue. The moon swims in her inky stream,
Night controls mother earth in her gloomy flood
And the little wingéd cherubim sails within my loving dream.
Heart, you attached my thoughts on her, sly madam or sir!
As hard as I pull, can not pull down the urge to be with her.

Human senses on emotion feather'd,
Hang by threads, make thy mind pleasur'd.
Frosted stream of crystal air
Cools the throats of men;
Closing behind allure of liquid amber,
Breathe to soothe back to their den.
Seen a sight never seen before;
Time plods long, stops the winds push.
Greenéd ever trees stand still on the moor,
Birds fly to the tower; view spreads to lush.
Perched on high from Gods temple door,
Flocks that gather to hear natures hush.
No music from this raiséd correlation?
Strangéd my mind, this earths variation.

Many a-kind thought,
Lightly flow, my girl honey-dew.
Gazing upward, moon white,
With her neighbourin' stars,
Dreamin' of your eyes blue.

My wish is to let me whisper in your ear
Sweet words of love
On this your birthday, my lady dear.

Those hours of joy in which you raised our spirit
The homage you gave your love to our devoted merit

Bring back my memories of your lovely April prime
Happy your tail wagg'd to thy golden time.

Of your winter days I hope our kindness made them sweet
Your years with us, our family, believe my tears were our treat.

If now upon this day harden minds do still not believe
Perfect ceremony of truths of sadness ****'d death does weave

How, not only once, that worship you gave to us, in your merry way
Jan 3rd, a devout soul, companion'd friend, died in our hearts today.

Is there a worse time?
When sleep releases you
From his grasp sublime,
Where images subdue?

I believe it to truly be
The most hated moment,
A loving slumber does flee,
Care free currency is spent.

Reality pours troubled
Thoughts of daily strife,
Clustered together, huddled,
Within a persons life.

Toil for moneys allure;
For errands to run;
Disease love to cure;
All before the rise of the sun.

How shall I start my song? For I write these words
To immerse within your ears
Sweet notes of daily practices, dear mother.

Days move slowly at her own pace,
Delicately she moves the stars
Across her expansive breast, never a hurry

Swirls, nor lingers in her contented mind.
Her own grind is worth her toil,
At her leisure does matter move at her sway.

I long to speak, and with eyes bowed low
I begin with measures; and tones;
To humbly seek the gift before me.

How I would, upon your soft neck wish my lips to press slight,
To your tender cheek, my yearn draws my wants too gently kiss,
Softly my heart relaxes, allowing joys of my true delight,
Simply realising, my angel, I'm unworthy of your waves of bliss.

Emily, if you were mine id fly you away
I'd forever kiss, caress, adore your heart, hear me pray;
I'd play the play that drove Byron's rhyming sway
I'd worship, and believe id worship, every word you'd say.