"toots" poems
Time to be in Tune with my own Best Dad
Much would it take to cause Celebration
Sermons apart, yet Insights I just had
Took me some Yards taped for Inspiration
Rarely such Species can just Understand
The Skirted *** most Males eliminate
Still most Sires force their Sons on Demand
To spout their Seeds for Pride to propagate
If you can recall those Sales-Slips within
How Footed and Devote your Presence was
Tri-Dimed Corporate; Or Sea-Tigers therein
Is just the Greeting Card I'll Love at last.
Senior come hither; In Prime Deposit
Father my Mentor; In Wisdom ask it.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
Always which the Human in me surpass
When Trite Reunion comes to much Expect
Between us, Birth-Father, the Heart must last
And configure our Values circumspect
After seeing those skinned neighbours battle
And DAD the Inspiration I preserve
Comes your Striking Counsel; Which I rattle
And reimburse the Love you so deserve
But, if Favour pleads, renew the Bald Man
Whose Birthdate his Arm's Course Affection share
Teach this Tanned Diver; To widen his span
Knowing such Open Hands breed Anywhere.
Circles are Dangerous, if Minds are locked
He needs to KNOW that; From his own Best Hug.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
Tongue in cheek I detest you
Hand over foot
Make a peep *****
And I promise I'll ****** you
Bad tact I'm a cesspool
Festering in the nestle of your daughter's
well developing *******
Everyday I follow her home from school
This unnerving pervert unearthing fervor
making ya catatonic &
giving your heart murmurs
Nurture the thought
It's just the tip
(Of the iceberg)
Gotta stir the paint before you make a mural
Ma'am, I'll purloin your ham purse until my burial
Don't be a sourpuss
It's final
I'm vile
And I swear I'm not a *********
Want some candy?
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
There once was a fellow from Nantucket
Who blew an excellent trumpet tucket
His toot ***** sounded so grand
As he lead the college band
Grand trumpet tuckets tooted in Nantucket
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Mud is good,
Its dead good mud,
It's in me blood,
But where not understood,
Us people of mud,
In the shadow of a gas tank and born on a Mersey bank, I lived on cobbled streets dark and dank,
I played on a ship that sank, and for anything else I wouldn’t thank....... you
On king street docks, girls in cheap frocks, curly locks, time tocks, the boat rocks,
The tanyard smell made life hell for all that dwell, under the bridge,
In Garston L19, it’s the scene, its clean, it’s where I’ve been, it’s not obscene or green, if you know what I mean.
Its community security sincerity and every other word that ends with erity,
But it’s fallen apart,
Don’t lose heart.
I go into town when I’m down, it clears me frown,
I don’t go in me jarmies or me dressin gown,
There’s men with round bellies, toddlers in wellies,
Posh ladies gather in their marks and spencer swagger,
There’s scouse brow teens, sunbed queens,
Hunks and punks, lonely drunks,
Suits in boots forgetting their roots and hens in *****
Big issue sellers, statue fellas holding golf umbrellas,
Coz of all the rain,
But it’s all good, coz we come from mud,
Let’s cheer, why?
Coz I’m here,
I’m me, me names T, and me hubbys P me best friends she..... lagh,
I like coffee and toffee and Roger Mcgoughy,
I like statistics logistics eye shadow and lipsticks,
I like bags and wags and cigarette **** but not beer,
I’m fine on wine if I take me time,
I don’t do a line, unless I’m hanging me washing on it,
I work in a bar, not far, I don’t drive a car, and I don’t say Lar or kid or lad or lid or mar,
I’m proud and loud, don’t live on a cloud, and I don’t follow the crowd,
I’m a mum to some, I’ve got a big round *** but I’m me you see,
I’m not square, I dye me hair, I swear but you can take me anywhere,
Coz I care,
I’m good,
I’m mud; it’s in me blood,
Understood
By Christina Ford
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
tootsie pops, pop rocks, rock candy
sweet tarts, smelly farts, war-heads, sour patch kids
reeses pieces, reeses stix, snickers lickers
fudge pile, chocolate smile, peanut butter bile, sugary style
baby ruths, almond joys, soy bean sauce, creamy steam
ill give u a payday, mayday, hay tastes good with parfai
milkyways stay gay to play games with sunrays
icing splicing with knife dicing
makes cakes, cook steaks, rumcakes
****** sprinkles, rip van winkle, diddily dinkle
gummy worms, germs impregnate firm, permed urns
angel food, carrots, pineapple upsideways
fruits, ***** parachutes, scooters, jello shooters
goobers, corn on the cobbers,
veggie wedgies, pepper leppers, squash boxes,
fry foxes, fleet rocks', carrot tops',
dishes of fishes,
witches brew platypus and fat kush
pushy slushies riding skateboards on gary busy
fussy hussies getting blushy about cussies
cereal made of creoles, bread straight from dreads,
rice is nice with spice, yeast is beast,
last but not least, wheat is a treat,
kiwis, shmiwis, dodos on go phones, starfruits,
bartlejuice, grape drank, sushi stinks.
ill eat anything.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
Oakes-photo, hypocrisy and flagrant mirky plateau. Brimming celestial warrants overcrowding public housing systems. North-South lights, sell costly iPhone Apps; and then there are Social Societies of non-verbal delight. Password protected non-profitable and over-costly educations of no reward or biblical synonyms. Catastrophizing hash-tag dot.com. Weary party going poster children with glowing anemone guts, fruity looped cantlings, ravenous scattered supper clubbed coughing up ******* on their strange and central affairs unit. Overcome the candisation and sugary affairs of any of the ***** and pops that erstwhile matter less and less. We are speaking of nomenclatures that don't arise. Promises and by which confession aloof romanticizes every Tom dicking Mary that carries the theory of sustainable energy, prussian blue, and irregular browsing.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:46 AM UTC
A thunderous crack
Echoes in the night.
A monstrous sound
Splitting my eardrums.
****** impure poison…
And it’s funny.
Aug 25, 2022
Aug 25, 2022 at 8:44 PM UTC
It’s that choo choo sound
.The steam puffing up with the movement in being anywhere bound.
First thing when the conductor says, “All Aboard”
The destination sign that suddenly appears from the board
.The wheels that start of churn
.The coal car on the train burning like a hot urn
.The thought the engine pulling the entire car load
.The movement having power and the look of behold
.As the Engineer ***** the bell and the engine horn
.It’s the Engineer actually saying to the boy, “Railing fantasy my treat”.
Being an Engineer takes endurance and feat
.Well Tom Othello was a lover of trains
.His Grandfather being a retired Engineer having a history and in Tom’s heart that will remain.
It was the beauty of the Super Chief
.As the Super Chief whisked by in hot summers gave some coolness being a relief.
Well seeing the Super Chief and passenger cars up close and personal made Tom appreciative of trains even more
.However, Tom was determined to explore.
There was a toy model Super Chief train set
The Train Cometh Hobby Shop knew the Super Chief was going to be a good bet.
But the question being would Tom’s parents let?
It took plenty of convincing to buy the Super Chief set
. However, Tom held onto that train set as if it was a loving pet.
Tom had that train running all through the house
.The Super Chief being a welcome arrival into a little boy’s place.
One thing that is for sure, the experience cannot be erased.
It was an enchanted ride
.We all took it in being our stride
.Well the Super Chief puffs to an endless rail
.The Super Chief thanks everyone for following in the trail
.As the Super Chief rides into the sunset, it’s one puff after another, and saying good-bye and another puff in don’t cry.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Thus on my genesis Love's fought Regret
My Ardent Sire whose Merits installed
These English Gifts whom I have thanked just yet
Carried Misconstruction; And docked the Fine Toll
This that Penance be my Honest Attempt
Yet still besieged in case of Bad Timing
The Gold I carry an Issue I Contempt
Will try once more to Win his Best Blessing
My how the Fortunes some drive the Mind mad
And took my Heart back to a Wildman's State
This cannot continue; Much have I had
Sponge this Circled Self back to my Constraint.
The Human in me, the Cause of my Lone
And Sister's Reason I banged on the Phone.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
Bubble and pop
sweet baby darling
blow
blow me, *****
and bring up all the sweet candy corn you can find.
shush and shake sweet honey babe
shush me and taste the shore with the tip of your tongue
can you taste the salt, sugar?
do you feel the rush, daddy?
chew me up like a piece of pink chunky bubble gum
and store me behind your ear.
draw me some cotton candy to munch on
and paint yourself a rocking chair to sit and watch.
blow me, babe.
pin me up against the wall and down underneath you
let me be your pinup girl
pull my stockings up
and sit me down on your lap
give me smacks for bad behavior
and leave candy colored crimson smeared across my chin.
oh, sweet baby darling, don't you crave to swallow me whole?
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 4:33 AM UTC
*this company is heading straight to the top
with our new improved line of fairy farts
soon our catch phrase will be all over the place
a slight touch of magic in a jar
first and foremost a disclaimer though
in the making of farts not one fairy was harmed
we house and feed, take care of their every need
so there's no need for alarm
once we discovered how the ***** could be used
down here on fairy farm
we've had all our men chase after them
capturing bottom barks into a jar
then by hand we transfer them
from pint up to gallon size
to be used all the way from laundry detergent
to a line of makeup that's soft on the eyes
we even have samples of candles
bath and body works just bought the whole lot
plus it runs machines cheaper than gasoline
so far the highest bid is from Exon
we're also in talks of a contract
with a highly secretive govern(mental) agency
who wants all the gas with no questions asked
but on that we'll have to wait and see
in the mean time our workers continue to bottle it up
all the fairy farts from all the fairy butts
it's a job that flatuates deep to the heart
but with this job what's not to love
as you watch the fairies flutter to and fro
hearing the cute little ***** wherever they go
who would have guessed who could have known
how much a business like this would grow*
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
Hi . . . This is about the kinds of people who work in corporate big money office buildings . . . Imagine them at lunchtime, how they interact and picture the scene in any . . .
Busy little bistro
Sharp - sharks - circle - the - pack
Pinstripe finned and eager
Snapping their snacks back with ease
Points to prove with nothing to lose
No cracks in their creases
They're keen to return to the fray.
These boys play with girls
Aren't yet uncles with nieces
Just unproven throwaway pieces . . .
In shiny . eat ***** . suited up . Chelsea boots
Bidding for ***** with cute looks and loot
Touting with confident ***** . . .
As mobile as their smart devices
Loose
Next . . . ?
And fresh from a mornings abuse
And fifteen years of fear . .
Beleaguered older shirts sit . .
Flogged dogs with weak barks
Parked packed into packs.
Tongue tied ties tied together
Safety is numbers
Get each others backs
These partially satisfied cats
Know today is NOT their day . .
That was yesterday . . .
Obliging lives and mortgages
The reasons why they stay
Passing Cabs cruise . . .
Seen it all before.
Sat in the back a high class *****
Glazed eyes glancing away
From her play-away payday
Nibbles in the boardroom . .
Napkins . . for the dribbles
A working lunch for this Girl
Her money-shot a wrap without applause
Was just a . . . pause . . . between paws . .
Then Dora on reception
John, who minds the door
Evie in the IT room
Or dave . . who buffs the Marble
Sparkles glinting in the floor . .
And the guards . . who guard . . what exactly . . ?
All of this . . ? Networking . . !!!
Everybody's selling something
It doesn't quite stink
But it definitely smells
A little high
As time whiles by
Seems this
Is the state of our nation
And in this state
Defines our aspirations
And yes . . this state's a splinter
Taunting my imagination . . .
Do I stake my place within this game
Or sit in observation
Commentating on a race
Where human nature fakes it's place
Where people sit as players
Yet no one wears their own face
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
If you don't know me by now
I am gregarious
I am a loner
sometimes hilarious
other times a moaner
sharp as a tack
dull as a dark cloud
sitting quietly in a corner
other times I'm too loud
I'll lay heaps of praise
I'll call you out
wanna know what's on my mind
I'll leave no doubt
I'll give you kisses
call you an ***
never been confused as one
with too much class
I'm a hard worker
and a lazy ***
I can be your lover
I can be your chum
don't like being played
but crazy about games
don't like loudmouths
love **** dames
have fancy suits
and cheapo shorts
like tasty *****
but no ***** or snorts
oh I will take a hit
off a Columbian joint
get high into a trance
laugh dance and point
yes I am this
and I am that
if you need a friend
I'll be more than that
just treat me right
don't pull my chain
then I'll be there
again and again
Gomer LePoet ....
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
I have one grandmother
And one grandfather.
Cousin Kate has two of each.
When I was young she tried to teach
My to call them Nana B
And Dadda B respectively,
But I guess that was too hard for me
So I just call them
Nana and B.
Nana looks a lot like mom
Except she's got more wrinkles on.
And lipstick that's a perfect pink
And dog treats underneath her sink
And a silver hairbrush,
Creams for foots,
And on occasion she calls me *****
My B, he's from Pier-Dip-Pah-Too.
His real name's John
(My brother's too!)
And B works on the radio
And tells me things I didn't know
About boats. And on the holidays
He always serves glasses
Of Seven-Sideways.
In my family we have this tradition
Called "the annual lake freeze competition".
My aunts and uncles, they all guess
Then me, of course, then all the rest
Which day Lake Ontario
Will freeze right over
So we know
Who. Gets. The Trophy.
Nana, she records the dates
And then with B she sits and waits
Day in, day out
They watch the lake
For one fine day
When no wave breaks the ice
...and someone wins The Trophy.
(One year the lake never froze and there was NO WINNER. My dad is obsessed with Global Warming and no he always votes anti-freeze.)
Now today's my day: January 21st
And I'm so excited I could almost burst
Cause I just know that phone
That's ringing
Is the call to inform me
Of my winning.
Gasp It's for me!
Hand me the phone, Mother ,
Give it here.
Why hello, Nana!
(She says "hello, dear")
Oh. I didn't win.
Well that's okay.
B says its a gamble this game we play.
Turns out it froze yesterday
And the trophy goes to
Cousin Kate??!!
Next year I think I'll vote anti-freeze
And I'll throw big rocks right through the ice.
Or maybe my brother, he'd suffice.
It's just not fair! Kate's won it twice!
But I did get to talk to Nana and B
...and that was nice.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
(A throw-back piece, a breakup poem from high school)
What a lonely, peculiar, eccentric figure I must be. A girl, in a garden, crying at an iPad, in the dark.
Earlier, at school...
It was a clear spelling out, like steel cuts thru fruit.
As he spoke, he looked down and away, his gorgeous face blank and indifferent, as if I were wasting his time or he was talking to a child needing an obvious truth taught quickly.
When he finally looked back at me, I saw no pity in his impersonal, hazel eyes.
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I needed time to contemplate the universe's new laws.
Can a girl just suddenly die of heartache?? because I was sure my heart had stopped, locked and frozen.
Finally, I gasped in this impossible new air—the force of it made me hold the cold-iron stair railing—the game is rough.
He's so—male—all chase and careless passion—intelligent teaser, a skilled steersman of excited climates... Oh, you simply have no idea.
And now he was, gone—still there physically—but gone to me—as if he'd transformed into a hologram or had begun to orbit some other sun, he just...
"You made me feel special." I said.
I had lost my balance on this faithless and unequal world, where heaven so cruelly punishes desires.
"You made me feel I mattered, such a favor." I said, absentmindedly, as I turned, and went back up the three steps into school.
I don't think I looked back at him as the door closed. After all, he wasn't there anymore.
I think he called my name, like a question...
.
.
Song for this:
Still Is Still Moving to Me (with Willie Nelson) by ***** & The Maytals
Helpless by The Cleaners From Venus
Nov 11, 2024
Nov 11, 2024 at 10:25 AM UTC
Today she wore curlers in her hair
looking like cannons staked out ready to blare
Her lipstick and powder
like bouillabaisse chowder
And when she demanded a goodbye "peck"
I said "No way!" to the wreck
Which made her rear back and bray
"Go home then and kiss a stingray!"
She cackled and cackled
raising my hackles
Thinks she is the second Joan Rivers
but she only gives me the shivers
Soon I was fearing another fight nearing
seeing her witch's eyes evilly peering
And when she rose in those clumpy army boots
I heard an arpeggio of loud flatulent *****
Forcing me out the door needing fresh air
and away from her threatening glare
But one day I'll be back
once I can align myself on the proper son-in-law track
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
Merry dear Dad his Inner Kevlar endure
And allow my Years to promote his Prove
For Right-Side's Heal let his Honour be Pure
And mirror the Big Hand in Sky's Glory
For if it be this Son, sullen by Age
Of Desert Years twice-score he should Wander
Would share his Bread; To patient Sky quench Rage
And emulate our Saviour's Mercy ponder
Yet you. Still you. Be my Foundation's Best
Apart from Powers I could Un-Concieve
That Feigned but Guiding Hand; With all Lime's Zest
Harness it ever from Sugars too Sweet.
And yes, dear Dad; The Five-Pronged Bot did die
Yet withered their Ghosts to greet your Day by.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
L14: No, ***** but...enjoy the moment.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXXVIII)
The mourning dove ere twilight yield calls, whence
Orange winks upon thet waking thought's detail,
And lo, I hear it softly coo. Grey mists in frail
Nigh ghostly touch a thin suggestion, thence
Do maples faintly shiver in suspense?
I thank the LORD for that voice on the pale
First notes of whither, erst wont to avail
My soul, and dawn sifts through to crown that sense.
How Joey worked "each day this week," yet fer
All that's forever on my mind. What, to
Effect, now does the culver's song as twere
Mean? How I used to know. Or thought I knew.
Now like a memry of sweet days lost, poor
Though what be? Does it bless our hopeful dew?
05Jul17b
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:16 PM UTC
I am from climbing the rocks by the beach with the dim morning light of the rising sun filtering through the morning fog of summertime.
I am from lying in my warm bed, giving into my dreams while listening to my mom sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”
I am from the foggy mornings in Monterey Bay watching the sun burn through the marine layer every day. The sun always won its morning battle, but while it struggled I would watch the rainbows come dancing through the fog.
I am from sitting in Mr. ***** coffee shop, sipping hot chocolate with piles of whipped cream and a smile on my face on cold Friday nights, listening to my dad play Paco Bell Cannon on violin while Hannah Beckham plays on the cello.
I am from playing in the waves on warm summer days; catching the sand ***** and throwing them back into the ocean. Finding seashells and putting them in my dad’s pocket so I didn’t have to carry them.
I am from walking down Soquel Creek, finding big rocks, falling in the water, riding on my dad’s shoulder on the way back because I got tired, and playing on the swing set that was at the end of it.
I am from hiking through Nicene Marks Redwood forest with my dad and whoever wanted to come. Watching the leaves fall down off the trees, ever so slowly, like angels falling from heaven.
I am from the night I moved from all I ever knew, watching my child hood home fading in the distance. I watched while my friends waved at me as they faded away in both my vision and my memory. I never saw them again. Goodbye, I whispered, as every thing I ever knew faded away. Goodbye.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 9:25 AM UTC
*Stop calling me exotic
Unique and hard to tell
I'm more than almond eyes , complexion caramel
My make up isnt determined by the measurement of my thighs
It's not the clothes I wear or my victorias' cup size
I'm much more than this concept that you have for me
I am more than what meets the eye
That's why makeup's not for thee
You think you know me well
But YOU have no idea
What makes me tick and motivate
You don't have time to hear
I dont twerk or get low to attract a crowd to me
Id much rather read a book, in two places I shall be
If You really think you know me
What makes me motivate
Then you should know that ***** boo, ***** and hunny are what make me irritate
You've no consideration for the things I love inside
The things that I love the most, I often have to hide
I love goosebumps and dandelions and living by the sea
I love dub step and movies and my family
I love teaching, and writing and all the things you hate
I love sailing and fishing and baking cookies late
So
Stop calling me exotic
Unique and hard to tell
I'm so much more than almond eyes , complexion caramel*
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
when i started to smoke marijuana aged 20
with this russian cupcake of falling asleep in a seashell entwined
i took to listening to: ***** & the maytals, culture,
israel vibration, damian marley, stephen marley, ziggy,
basil daley, brenton dowe, bunny wailer,
burning spear, cornel & the brentford rockers,
earl zero, freddie mckay, jackie mittoo,
keith hudson, king tubby, lloyd robinson & brentford disco,
lone ranger, peter tosh, soul vendors, sound dimension,
the heptones, the new establishment, wailing souls,
willie & the brentford rockers,
winston & the new establishment...
i sometimes wish i went into the stoner rock direction
to experience that side of the ethnic cultural exploitation
of a certain intoxication... anyway, whatever...
i forget to mention barrington levy, gregory isaac,
alpha blondy and sort of classify collie buddz as reggae’s eminem.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
can we really make this work?
smoke one thousand cigarettes
sleep one hundred hours
act like **** for all the times
and still love one another?
is that what it really is?
this thing they speak of
the undying
the eternal
can we?
just you and i
mere mortals
our lives slipping away
some faster than others
but always looming
you're not a robot
and i
well i never wanted to be
but it doesnt mean i still dont fear death
even though im always waiting for it
its always looming
its forever been my shadow
can we continue on this way?
for eternity
infinity
lord father god
we pray (prey) on
full disclosure
and the tells (and tales)
of each
we take pleasure
and solace
and grief
and guilt
and home (comfort)
in knowing all the things
every
single
thing
do me a favor?
tell me them all again
and this time
i promise to write them all down
im so afraid to forget
and apart of me knows i never will
but the rest of me remembers i can't not
and that is my greatest fear
can we keep writing forever?
line upon line
because we know (and rejoice)
knowing that others read them
and take pleasure in them
but what we get off on the most
is writing them for each other
can we always feel this way?
despite locations
distances
abilities to breathe
and desire
can we please promise?
to one day rest together
the only sure promise
i will ever ask of you
forget the truths
and the honesty
and the lies
mostly forget the demise
can we please remember?
the time in our hearts
individually
where the thought of one another
the feeling of our love
made each other
so anxious
so happy
so nervous
when our love was at its best?
first date nuts
tents
camping
adventures
spit wars
feet washes
sunsets
sun rises
sun baths
sun gazes
all things sun
star trek
star wars
star gazing
all things stars
big spoons
little spoons
spoons all the times
crooks
nooks
*****
skitts
triangles
kiddens
stomachs
Pickett
wildflowers
the list will never end
it can never end
but mostly
i miss your voice
and your touch
your kiss
caress
the grin that has made me weak
weak for fifteen years
so i just ask
can we, please?
if just one more time.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
*Things change and friends leave
And life doesn't stop for anybody*
It's a fast paced world
If you can't keep up they'll knock you down
The land lord doesn't care that jimmy got sick and you had to use the rentoney for antibiotics
**** you. Pay me.
Car broke down?
*****
**** you. Pay me.
Grandma died?
I don't care
Pay me.
That's the kind of world we live in *****
So **** you
And pay me
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
Someday, we will meet again
Like rocks of unchanging nature
We tiddle our barriers beneath,
Silent callings of exasperation
We find our fortune in streams of
Pink lattices drissled in every
Position of pondering
I write this to you
As if you are in my room
Staring blankly at a wall
Or unturned in your bunk bed
While I whistle away our creative bliss
Many will not read this fully,
Because of the vexation of length,
But many do not know you
Or the length of your days
How they were cut short by the change
Of ways,
I sadly recall that I left you barren
For a day for friends cold and brand
I love you my dearest ally
For us life never end
Maybe when Jesus ***** his
Horn of victory we can
Whisp our way to His garden
And steal the night away
Because in Heaven there is no night
Or so the owl does say,
The children are forging
Way beyond their time
Don't forget my friend
Love is not a crime
Until that glorious day
I bit you dear farewell
At all my greatest friend on earth
Atlast we'll sing again,
Breathe for me the air of Heavens great
Delight and bare with me this somber,
Lonely night
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC