Thru the most mysterious ties
The best in life we’ll ever know,
Love always seems to be the paradise
That we must find and not let go.
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Every mind a mystery,
What goesThru a person’s mind,We are even mysteriesTo ourselves.Strange Life,And We,Stranger, still…
I want to be purple,
(I never do, anyway, shhh)Have a fling with the Moon,And talk to the Night,I want to be free,And grow Wings that travel,To full Liberty.I’m so very tired,Of the madness around,I want to take off,And never touch ground.
Art just as Poetry,
There is but feeling and sincerity,That must flow, so naturally,So that the work of art or poem,Can truly Be.
So many thing are,
A longer word thanInsignificant,However pleasant, inconsequentialMay be.But seriously,what really counts,In this crazy world,Is what touches the heart,Individually so,And the rest is just,Not fundamental,We might even say,Inconsequential!
UNBELIEVABLE!
Weaves its webs,And traps its Fools,Around spinning spools.
How much can you feel,
How much can you think,Without hitting ‘restart’?We are creatures of habitHave fear of the new,So, how long can I live,Without loving you?