Sing you lovely melody,
as I tip-toe,
past the pedestrian lines,
there's a scent,
of a perfect aroma,
of your perfect toes
& no breaking
of memories
are never statues,
Heresy can come,
and collect my soul,
as your all seeing
is bleeding
My love and
all of your sweets
I'll worship
forever,
cut through weeds.

Once when I was a boy,
on an afternoon of athletes,
I wasn't even feeling coy,
and had a sinking feeling.

When the gun went off,
my little legs flew
to the finish line,
and I finally had gold....

There was another boy,
with legs like lobsters,
and I could have swore,
he was an eagle to soar.

But I left him
at the starting line
Now I finally felt alive
as they clapped to Yellow.

And finally I breathed
and anxiety left me....
I once did achieve
in my worthless
life, something.....

My disquieting thoughts strike at night in the wee hours
As if born along by the autumn winds and bracing cold
Persistent as a fever and fierce as thunderstorms
What can be forgiven and what cannot?
I fall asleep to another night of uncertainly

I awaken to a new day of endurance
My spirit ablaze with hope can cope
With feet steady and face to the wind
Transforming the toughest trial into triumph
Because beyond the pain the prize is seen

I do know what I need
in a comfort planting seeds
and a summer's heat of sheets
we planted a garden of fancies
of grown sweet delights.
My voice is shy and I'm reluctant
with I wish to express
through this throat.
I'm an introvert
and so I tremble
like the weight
of the crumbling
stones
that hit this statue,
and eventually
You're hand in hand
as I become the dust,
of once but now
not known.

I'll dive through
solid ice,
into freezing waters
to drag you,
up to life,
resuscitate
your sweet heart
with drops of blood,
hold you around
the waist
and squeeze
the salty sea out,
pollution swallowed...
rub your forehead
caress your ears
as you come to,
again a silvery spoon
to this bronze fork.
And golden are plains
to heavens least forbore.