I care not for your “darling buds of May”
Nor the rough winds that howl at their expense
For the sea that is vast as they hair’s fray
I find your mind to be as vastly dense.

As the ocean is brimming with fresh catch;
Bellowing waves to the longing shorelines
Each hermit to shell in a God-made match
Unlike the way thy thoughts seem to align.

But in every shell exists a new creature
No matter what this shell may seem to be
Spontaneity exists bare in nature
As it was so it will remain to be.

As the brilliance of thy words come to a light
I find them burning longer than the night.