fiancé music
a masked Frenchman
beer mugs
and Hallelujah
ice cream and gyros
ringing bells
carillon empassions
aquamarine capos
bug-bite hoverings
Follow me !
through haydream
daydews, to
songs out of
no where.
I guess that's
why they call it the blues,
because God only
knows what I'd be
without you;
Bethlehem.
Maybe I'd be a
breathless mess
or a hapless test
but flowers are for today
and toddlers are for tomorrow
there need no more poems
about sorrow.