Get going Gary!
Grab a gun, ghillie, and grub
Guinea's gonna glide.

one fair Sunday, air will flow beneath me
I'll fly above palm trees and the blue sea
so when sunrise dethrones the fireflies
I'll be the eagle surfing sapphire skies

but send an angel to teach me blasphemy
as I'm mortal without the chemistry
to soar up and touch heaven’s canopy
God decrees 'humans aren't feathery'

so, rise defiant and grow my wings through
to glide as a jet, one man crew and say ‘I flew’
but when God gets a clue to what we do
he will fire you and strike me through

but not before that fair wind lifts my wings
to see beyond the things fit just for kings

how do I satisfy the need
to see into the eyes
of the one I've yet to meet?

red does to me what only red can do
it chose me from an ancient tree
bearing red fruit seductive and juicy
red is a colour that sets in motion
deep acknowledgement usually hidden

Somehow, unbefuddled, it all ties together,
The happy endings get tied, knots well made,
Sleep comes easy, the light dims slowly, finely,
Clarity, everywhere, not for taking, just for asking,
Wanting is off limits, even inconceivable, and the poem.
Why, even the poem finishes itself, and to all a very, Good Night

a grownup lullaby

sow and reap and weave
repeat repeat repeat

weave and reap and sow
a poets lot a poets lot a poets lot

repeat repeat repeat
reap and weave and sow