If laughter be the currency of the soul
I do not have enough to buy
a lamp to chase the
shadow from my
heart.

Lazy summer afternoon,
Screened in porch and nothin' to do,
I just kicked off my tennis shoe.
Slouchin' in a plastic chair,
Rakin' my fingers through my hair.
I close my eyes and I leave them there,
And I yawn, and sigh, and slowly fade away

Awakened by a familiar sound,
A clumsy fly is buzzin' around,
He bumps the screen and he tumbles down.
He gathers about his wits and pride,
And tries again for the hundredth time,  
'Cause freedom calls from the other side,
And I smile and nod, and slowly drift away

Another sound chimes through my ear,
A robin singing with his peer,
A simple song that just so dear.
They find a tree so they can rest,
And then begin to build a nest,
One to suit their babies best.
And I grin in awe and slowly drift away

As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving
And the rose buds know to bloom in early May
Just as hate knows love's the cure, you can rest your mind assure
That I'll be loving you always

As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow
But in passing we'll grow older everyday
Just as all that's born is new, you know what I say is true
That I'll be loving you always

Just as time knew to move on since the beginning,
And the seasons know exactly when to change
Just as kindness knows no shame, know through all your joy and pain
That I'll be loving you always

As today I know I'm living, but tomorrow
Could make me the past, but that I mustn't fear
For I know deep in my mind the love of me I've left behind
'Cause I'll be loving you always

Until the day is night and night becomes the day
Until the trees and seas just up and fly away
Until the day that 8x8x8 is 4
Until the day that is the day that are  no more

Until the rainbow burns the stars out  in the sky
Until the ocean covers every  mountain high
Until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea
Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream,
I'll be loving you...


...*Always

WOW, isn't that lovely?
Would you call your child that? Would you leave them there,    
   hanging without a piece of    
   identity to clarify just what  
   *they are?
Would you leave them there
   without a beautiful name that
   suits them dearly like: Grace,
   Hope, Joy or Micah, Joe,
   Ben?
Would you call your child Untitled?
No?
Then why would you call the
   poetry that you've raise from
   an idea and helped it to
   develop Untitled?
Be careful, poems have
   feelings too!