so...... we going to fight
there is a pebble in your shoe
there is a pebble in your heart

let it out, make angry
word art... lighting up
the sky with firework
words and bonfire hurts

i stand and watch you fizz
and flame..... words like lava
leaping off your tongue
and wait for the rage to
subside....
then i step gently on  the embers as you cry...

little man your tantrums
done
time for a nap... too much
time in the sun...
and sometimes an almost four year old heart... just gets too full...and then kaboomsky...you just blow...
but you will be better soon...
i know....it's so unfair...
but now my friend...off to bed.

The black bull bellowed before the sea.
The sea, till that day orderly,
Hove up against Bendylaw.

The queen in the mulberry arbor stared
Stiff as a queen on a playing card.
The king fingered his beard.

A blue sea, four ***** bull-feet,
A bull-snouted sea that wouldn't stay put,
Bucked at the garden gate.

Along box-lined walks in the florid sun
Toward the rowdy bellow and back again
The lords and ladies ran.

The great bronze gate began to crack,
The sea broke in at every crack,
Pellmell, blueblack.

The bull surged up, the bull surged down,
Not to be stayed by a daisy chain
Nor by any learned man.

O the king's tidy acre is under the sea,
And the royal rose in the bull's belly,
And the bull on the king's highway.

If there's no mountain to climb what is falls if rivers are over flowed by stones
If there's no secret to be revealed what is truth beyond those reckless lies
If there's no anger between hatred what is revenge among these tragic scars
If there's no music to listen to then what is life filled with empty creek without pages to be written to
If there's no poetry to paint for
Then what's the purpose of staying so long in a winter that can't be drown
If there's no ocean to look for
Then what's the purpose of the sun to rise when rocks are covered with mountains we fall
And if there's no skies to lift up high then what is hope if there's nothing to hold.

And when it rains
it pours
in that little mind of yours.
So you take your thoughts
and hang them out to dry
in the form of a poem.