Daffodils in my garden
lie damaged & still
Fragile spirits of
these delicate dancers
crushed by-
the angry assaults thru the sky.

I can't rip myself asunder from such a magnanimous prepositional
as this.
While the fishes hang from my window
like little ice-ickles in spring.
So foams the frosty beverage that tells the gills to sing.
Twilight music and the sonnets contained therein
have little left to offer us, save a right-winged jerry-bin.
So the muse of ages goes round and around and around
for the malarkey of a daffodil creates folds and hills
where none exist.

I can't rip myself asunder from such a magnanimous prepositional
as this.
While the fishes hang from my window
like little ice-ickles in spring.
So foams the frosty beverage that tells the gills to sing.
Twilight music and the sonnets contained therein
have little left to offer us, save a right-winged jerry-bin.
So the muse of ages goes round and around and around
for the malarkey of a daffodil creates folds and hills
where none exist.

Intoxicated by your fragrance
Entranced by your radiance
Unique; you are blind to your own brilliance
Lovely, humble, shy
Skin that makes me cry
You are the one I still adore
Remember when you've cast me aside?
Did you know in your oblivion
You've left me poisoned to my core?
So I kept your bulbs locked away.
Tucked away in a jar
Time passes, but yet you still
haunt me when I look at you   from afar
Poison faded away, but the stain still remained
Leave me addicted to the scars
And every night I pray,
"Move along."
Love for you kept me in bars.
But my dear, you are not the one to blame
It is me who is ashamed.
for when a heart is a volcano, flowers can't bloom
so I send you silent shouts at the moon
To you, I'm your five months of fall, but did you know
you're my four seasons of Spring?
Revisited. Revived.
March is here, and I still wait for the day you bloom.
As my love for you, still looms.