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 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

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

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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