soft bells, all my  soft bells

there, small bird, there
come to me

how nightingale in memory of aloneness does sing
in all its elinesses does ring

here small bird, come into me
how sun crossed by the purple lipstems
goblin flowers sway clasp
                                   brightest horse sun
            your glissando moonfilled eyes'
    soft bells
                          there, small bird
                there come to me
           how nightingale in song does betroth air
                   and when the Winter's children spring    
                                   chorals all death's lies
                                    giggle goblin flowers' hearts
        
                  small birds, gather me
                  come to me I gather your songing furies'
         tender quietude's
                                               soft bells, all my
                                          soft bells

A poem breathed
Into me
And awakened
My senses
Visualizing colors
Of sunny morn
And moonfilled night
Animals being animals
Trees and nature
All.around
Smelling stinky feet
Warm fires from
Someone's home
Homemade bread
Fresh fallen rain
Tasting crunchy apples
Sipping herbal tea
Hearing yapping dogs
And the crackling logs
From the fireplace
Touching baby's  toes
Or sandpaper
Thouhts were overflowing
Of the wonder of
It all
Grabbed a pen
And paper
And a poem
Was born