There’s
a mystery,
to
thump a heart,
a
sacred location. I
think
for
souls, and midnight blues,
a
prosaic ballet. It’s more a
kindness,
to fuel for flame,
a
soiree of sunbeams; and
something’s
mystique,
to capture a
vision,
a necklace of beads.
I
fall to carpets, to grip for souls, a tear for joy. I was vague, to trek a
feature, a forest of wildness. I met a wolf, to see for life, a bit gregarious.
We woke a pond, aforetime crazy, to spas a future. I web a volt, to flicker
softly, a jacinth rain; and thus the pearls, as blue as moods, to court a
feeling. I sparked a scent, afield a fruit, steady for chase; and there was God,
to speak a voice, a hand held heavy; for such is light, to sip Chardonnay, to
rub a necklace; and oh a feeling, to permeate caves, to touch within. We vibe
in gray, to feature in black, as white as dolphins. I speak for course, a
subtle beauty, a mixture of rainbows; and yes to symbols, but not for culture,
but rather an orison. We move apace, to die for aught, unless for keen. I ask a
boon, to yield a fortune, to nurse for souls; for swans are free, where geese
to roam, a rapture of deers. I feel it cloven, to wrestle a psyche, and ever
suspicious; else for love, a coop of joy, to argue words. I heard for nights,
to toss a turn, a tad bit restless; for one’s aflame, a spirit’s friend, to
commune in gold; for oh a dell, a touch of drear, and dare we not; for life is
torn, to wail for bliss, to find for love. I’m ever there, a shot for darkness,
to forge for light; and oh to drift, to find for words, a venture of minds.
We’re not for lone, to forego hope, and deeply distraught; but more a thread,
to conjure for ghosts, to swoop through souls; and sore amazed, an empire
found, a grand ceremony. Indeed—a den, and filled with lions, to feed for
dreams; for mouths were shut, to signal for God, to flutter heart-caves. I love
us more, a feeling fantastic, to drift a feature.
