the words dancing with the notes
as you make the music sing
up and down
as they go around
per-sifted to fill the air

the goose bumps
resonating
essence
leaking out
as emotions

i think time stop or is standing s
so still that you can’t see the wh
as the sun kisses upon your sill
maybe paw prints will design the f
once again this might be a hard pi

sad
even the lightning bug
has a purpose in a jar
but a heart,
no place

i would like to exhale on a fiddle
tap dance on the king’s crown
perish in the fire, with you looki
some duck in aisle to hide from th
gathering of these could bring a s

some grow up
with a spot to fill
a title to live
a for runner
of things to come

the self sabotaging squirrel
planting trees with in trees
destroying his own dwelling
or constructing his future
weakening the trees bring bugs

then one spirit says to the other
i will do it this way
the other says no .
and i,.. - well i, ..
i get stuck in the middle

the light seeping through the crac
as the soul longs to be seen
spraying colors of emotions
as seeing the soul with clear lens
the split mirror shows two sides

learning from history
only to follow their steps
as eternity rolls
or calls
us home

if only the words were as real as
a b c can tell it right from left
the j from the the k
fifty years gone by
with out the b finding it’s way

i can shine your armor
and make ready
placing arms and legs in
encouraging you to be steady
as we start to begin

the skin of the fruit
peels the silver wrapper
off of the kiss, as i place
in your mouth
—the melting seeds

your works make me feel that
we met in the hall somewhere,
only i saw and looked away, distra
by the moth eating the caterpillar
and you watched me as i watched th

as i place my hand in yours
and we manipulate
the dance floor
at the museum
the people stop

maybe there’s another way
a better way
a tidal way
that’s not dreary bleak
or dark

the identity of one being ripped a
as if covered by the snow
with each layer
the complexity rises
in the melting pot

the m is the w
only backwards or upside down
maybe if one is colored
we can tell them apart
we can tell them which way to go

as it’s moisture fills the cracks
my lips, and i slowly draw my hand
from my hips to appeal to it
the bliss of the pure essence
delivered from such a small burst

such imagery...
as i was coming home this morning.
then reading the imprints you left
lightly dancing on the soft pink c
over the white horizon in the mor

lost in the scent as the smelling
escorting beauty by the hand - buy
because the tone is in the air
as the spider spins her web - her
on a hill, the breeze wrapping you

i weave the butterfly hairs
into your looks and they look
like feathers blowing in the airs
with no one to read the book
the tongue stopped by time

he spoke to me once about
a purple bubble - protecting
as is the mustard seed hanging
in a necklace - where did it go
where did these emotions grow

taking life as a child
with ease of wonder
dropping the emotions
that life bestows
will start the healing

you could smell it
like it is smoldering
under the shavings
then it eats its way out
and sharing with the wood

making one gear smaller
to slow the time
can make it holler
will the other hear
the sound of the dollar

the pieces fitting together
the fear crowded out
with truth flowing
and emotions poured out
can understand how the

glossed over as if covered
in a way that makes it
new
some say white others
blue

in times of old
it was obscene
the character
the choice made
and history told

sliding hand through first to make
as i push through the pomegranate
hands caress the tight plump fruit
the juice absorbing into my pours
and i sweating it’s juice, we beco

emotions seared
without heart speared
like the mixing of the molecules
sweat and oil pressing together
distance gone with out setting a p

in this globe i am alone
or they are in a globe
with different rules,
ideas and plans
no cracks get in the way

keeping us tipping
on one toe
always over guessing
looking through the hole
not sure if i have a soul

the tears didn’t leave a trail
into the corn field till after
the couple was found
frozen and dead
but left many puddles after

leaves of red and gold
come crashing down in disgust
that after such a little time of s
and finally –perfecting color
the beauty is cast down and trodde

the freeing of emotions
how healing it can be
filling the holes of the soul
with the divine love –of GOD
truth correcting error