1540 UR THYME
A herb of India
Radiating to she
Send-to-ya me!
A tea of Bombay
Through skies
Lips may
Kiss me
Not know me
Or miss me
Continents apart
Arabian sea
Heart of me
Working playing
Not lonely laying
Down
Broken older
Time's soldier
Battles golden folded
Than any lesson learned
Taught to be a girl
In this world
In dance how funny
That I would find you
Honey
To write this way
In middle of night
While harps play
Flowing thought
I'm caught
A she without he
A man as my owner
Honest kind
Who loves this loner
Owns her too
Barely ever do
Poetry again my friend
Life for living
Love for giving
Alright hold one tight
In your soul and mind
To find
Allowance for the delicate balance
Of rational and insane
Either way to gain
Flying or crying until dying
Is the black longed for
No more
Mercy of my God not odd
When you're old
Life's cold
Harps of angels stay to play
Heaven's song for you oh wife
Be the husband in your life
Time to glow, let it go...
11/14/2008 0143 cj
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