How it's so you make me slow, a clumsy tortoise shell deep in snow, although I go, it does take time, due to your glow, which makes blind, any gaze that's set ablaze too long in time. I often find, like a rake through vines, that I get tangled when in line of your shine. You make me climb, to heights higher than they'd advise, it's effortless, I'm elevated, by you, day and night.