this is a poor mans heaven
rooms lit by a golden glow
as the sun shines for a moment
to illuminate it's kingdom
before dipping behind a horizon
where only memories can light
the way to a promised land
it is fleeting moments like this
that feed my soul and elevate me
spiritually to a kind of epiphany
the same sun man has worshipped
since his beginning of time

The red soil rises in the garden
Upon a wrought and coiling mist,
Then collects the stems of morning light:
Old Future's endless sift.

These mornings when the flood plains swell
Instil great peace of mind;
Tireless are the crossroads of
Transpiring, morning light.

Set down the blade,
Spread far the grain,
Inhale the rice-fed air;
Now rake the water's fervent edge,
Revealing waves of golden.

A drop of beauty spot
a black mole
or a cool shady sketch
on the golden brow
of a sunny day.
The evening is always
welcome at the end.

The night from off site
pops on her way
however pitch dark
weaving even more black
across that kohl-pollen
embroidery
a sky full of stars
will keep an open eye!

Sun melted to pink, but Sky is still BLUE...
Not everything turns GOLDEN before the end
Only the HORIZON is colourful,
Lemme see...
Yeah, and for a long time sky is gonna be blue

Maybe some years gone by
raising the pyramid golden high.
The inbuilt deep sea of science and arts
in the making run in timeless time.
So why ponder spilling the beans
in one fine moment down the open sky?

It’s difficult to look outside of my my-
-croscopic lens; it just feels like a job

to never have to consider who is
an actual person that should matter to

me. It’s an almost impossible trick,
that only me and most other adults

can forget how we felt growing into
a new body, how we forget ever knowing

We're just like everyone else who also thinks they
aren’t like everyone else because they didn’t have
someone to hold their heavy lovelorn child-hearts.

It’s strange talking about work and the weather
as if we didn’t spend almost a decade
wrapped up in each other

Somewhere out on the water
talking about forever
as if it was just another Tuesday

You were always trying to teach me how to sail
but I never really listened
still I was in love with your voice
and the way you’d stop to kiss me
when I complained about the cold
till it didn’t matter anymore

Sometimes I wish we’d never come ashore
stayed out there where time didn’t matter
and nothing changed

We could have disappeared over the horizon
into the proverbial sunset
we would have stayed golden