With such variety
Such a garden blooms
Eager, for somebody
With a personal diary
Eager, for somebody
I look for the truth
In the veracity of claim
That he loves people
As much as piano concertos
A subliminal cornet rings
Sibilant in harmony
Such is the rhapsody
Of my tender heart
That seems to flail vehemently
For my love
For my joy
For my ode to tocsins
Loud enough to wake up
The light of my life
Sleeping so softly
Like a lullaby
Like a Berceuse
Such a garden blooms in a myriad transgressions
Bearing the fruit of my age and labor
All found within a forgotten flower
He is that somebody