My life is over as I know it
I'm in love with a poet
She hides away at night
deep in her shell
So her sordid tales
she can tell

I read some lines with disbelief
Feeling sadness, feeling grief
It doesn't have anything to do
with love or trust
I don't want other men
for her to lust

His Awakening, Midnight Lover
Are these words just a cover?
It's not her
it's definitely me
I have some kind
of deficiency

Just keep on writing
I understand
to be the queen
sure must be grand

Before I end this
I request one thing
if you are the Queen
can I be your King?

I don't wear gloves when I plant my Spring flowers.
I like to feel the soft, warm soil.
I like to feel where the roots go.
Deep, deep below.
I don't mind having dirt under my fingernails.

I like feeling the sunlight on my hair.
And hearing the birds sing in the air.
While I plant beauty in the soft, warm earth.
I don't mind having dirt under my fingernails.

I like to feel the soft, warm soil.
I don't mind having dirt under my fingernails.

Dragonflies
zipping through
the rainbow
made by
the backyard sprinkler