On a mote of dust,
suspended in a sunbeam.

Lying on my back, on a picnic table next to a reservoir in my hometown, staring up through a pine cone laden pine tree, wearing earbuds playing binaural tones of cosmic soundscapes. The verdant pine needles filter sun light into thousands of jeweled sparkling shades, gradient hues of emerald  and silver light; while the heavy breeze makes the waters surface dance, to natures tune, a myriad of flashing gems.
     That my Spirit could take flight! To become unbound to these earthly cares and elements, casting off these carnal woes and be free; a new dawn after a long and terrible night. Becoming one with the flow of harmony, of wind, water and earth. To leap into the sky, to soar, and be free as thought!

     But alas! Past is the subtle strains of music celestial, the dream spell broken, and next; a mountain bike ride to home and the cares of life.

Why does Kaylee count to 1,2,3
Cause Kaylee can.
     Why does Kaylee say her A,B,C's
cause Kaylee can.
     She always counts to 1,2,3
she always says her A,B,C's
she always eats her corn and pea's!
     Why does Kaylee count to 1,2,3?
Cause Kaylee can.

I shall Guard my heart no more,
Let the scared and calloused bulwark of my affections be thrown down,
And trampled ceaseless its beating till loves refrain in silence echoes.

For far to long I've stood in sullen shadows,
Fearing, for radiant scorn far to brightly burns thy light,
Embrace, now I a moth and bring to ash my tender touch.

I shall guard my heart no more.

How far long be gone the day?
     Now that dreamy stars and shadows
     Lend the cool airs.
    
    Where will go the mistress moon?
    Who's tresses silver laden,
    Bejeweled in starlit sparkled eyes.

    Of days that wane who shall remember?
    Glories golden gilded in days of yore,
    Once did stir the pining heart.

     Are we no more than dust that go?
     No spirit have any to wander yon,
     Blith rest is but a dream.

My Son take this backpack for this path is never ending,
And I grow weak and tired.
In it you will find all my hopes and dreams,
I could not use them for myself.

Over there is an old brush harbor,
I'll rest there for a moment.
If I not soon rejoin,
We'll meet at some larger way.

There we will once again,
Laugh at the chasing squirrels.
Marvel at blue skies,
Sparkling rivers and lakes.

If rain, thunder and lighting fright,
Maybe little hands you will hold,
Like I did so many years ago.

Till then Carrie these,
All my hopes and dreams.

I meet upon one occasion a lady fair,
With eyes blue and golden hair.
She held all the airs of grace,
In virtue lacking none,
And when she smiled,
'Twas radiant as the sun.

Says I "My lady fair"'
On one knee head bowed.
"I'll not look into your eyes,
For tho' I drink an ocean dry,
It'll not quench thirst of want
Of those limpid  pools clear."

"Speak not melodious chimes your name,
For tho' I speak it a thousand times,
One would be the same."

In turning my heart was fell.
Now the night dream gone,
And song of nightingale.
Never have I again seen this lady fair,
With eyes of blue and golden hair.