Golden hearts frolic on lilac hills

    rolling with the landscape, as does sunset on Mt. sill

    nothing invalid, nothing untrue

    prospects of no such thing as anything few.

    where blue thunder rolls in lilac hue.

    this place, far beyond anything anyone knew

    we seek silent frills on lilac hill

    where heavens eye shine not few, but all others too.

    made of love, no solitude.