unrhyming in the jilty way                      i am
never stepping how You weave flowersome

(chalky Moon she can not finger into
/liquid Sun her molten gold    will,dryup)
the ground,
   each flowersome heel You soft-soap
into charming new Somethings,
                                              lifely green

no setting - kinda jellylike - the eve
will forges on in her shimmery way
(& birdsong is similarly shimmery)
lasting forever like lifetime of bees
,hopefully,
                  or preserved in petalwrap
(& it is You   giving the time its tick)

You are in rhyming with the Universe
so hum in the       softly folds of music.

where,honey &lemon
  is replacing the
flowersome air,where
the sea is not half
   as sugary as

all the little somethings
       (I want all the
  little somethings)
,but nothing & nothing
   is what I,ve found.

is relief grown
in riverbeds,where   is
  content & her litter
of reminders that,'every
thing    will be   okay?

one of My
       little somethings
,to Me,       shows I am
okay, on board&sailing
           for utopia.