Deep at night in my slumber, I often dream and wonder.
Of a girl so beautiful and sweet she can only exist in my dreams, so pretty and nice she's like your favorite bowl of ice cream.
No one really sees her or notices her like I do, but without her I feel useless, like laces with no shoe.
Her eyes; her hair; I just want to sweep her off her feet, but I must wait a whole day until I go to sleep.
Her beauty cuts through my heart like a silent room with a scream, she's the one for me, this girl of my dreams.

If someone asked you what snow was, what would you say?
Would you be scientific and say it's atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals and falling in light white flakes?
Would you say that it's rain but just much more friendly?
Or would you just shake your head and say I don't know?
Whatever you say, I know what snow really is.
Snow is just a family. One snow flake doesn't mean anything, but ever look outside and see snow packed up to the trees along the street.
Snow just looks so peaceful: so full of life: so loving. I feel as if when they're in the air they can't wait to reach the ground to be reunited with their frosted brothers and sisters.
That's what snow is: family.

She looks at me and smiles, walks over and strikes a conversation.
I stare at her nose. It's huge I say to myself.
Everything's so fine, her bodies defined but I just stopped and stared. She smiled and we laughed, we shared a drink everything was going so well.
Me and her were smiling and we both had a buzz, everything was a blur in some fuzz.
She was so nice and sweet as a bug, but I just couldn't get over how big her nose was.

The wind blows and I can feel the breeze running through my spine,
I sit there in the shade of the giant oak tree that grandma Glenda planted here back when she was my age.
I was reading "Mocking Jay," by Suzanne Collins,
I feel like every time Katniss talked about bringing peace to all the districts this is what she pictured.
Quietness; happiness; tranquillity.
That's all I felt.
Like nothing in the world could hurt me, like my body and my mind had left me and all I had to do was sit back, relax, and enjoy my favorite book.
The wind blowing, the kids playing, the birds all in harmony as they sing,
With all this beauty in one moment, it's crazy that some people don't just enjoy the little things.

Johnny Cash was a regular old man who liked his porridge just right,
He woke in the morning and went to work and then he slept at night.
No one knew who he really was or how he made his wealth,
He knew he was rich and loved his money and made it all with no help.
When his son asked how he made his money he plain and simply just said,
If you want to live like Johnny Cash you have to know how to hide from the feds.

Nice suit; bad shoes; never shows up on time,
Weird hat, but dashing socks; did he spend any time?
His buttons are yellow, and his glasses are green; nothing really seems to match,
No one knew why they kept staring but my god this guy was a catch.
Finally a lady, finest in the land, sat next to him right on the couch,
She asked him why he stood out so much and he said "It's cause I'm the Best Worst Dressed Man in the house."

All things are woven together and the common bond is sacred, and scarcely one thing is foreign to another, for they have been arranged together in their places and together make the same ordered Universe. For there is one Universe out of all, one God through all, one substance and one law, one common Reason of all intelligent creatures and one Truth.

Frequently consider the connection of all things in the universe.
We should not say ‘I am an Athenian’ or ‘I am a Roman’ but ‘I am a citizen of the Universe.