towering and sheltering
shading and nourishing
a blossoming innocence
of suckled sweetness

draped in wand pods
sowing magical seeds
sprouting sapling bridges
between hoping and knowing

fluttering metamorphosis
butterflies of the night
seeking the light of home
dimmed within memory

though storms may wail
these roots run deep
though lightening strikes
these wings have spread

Throw away girl the parasol
rain wanna kiss your skin
then seep slowly into your soul
settle in love therein.

You don't need girl the parasol
rain longs to touch your face
then take in your heart a quiet stroll
etch there for love a warm place.

Don't walk girl with the parasol
rain is begging for a chance
for your embrace he's blazing coal
burning to wipe out the distance.

Drop girl the parasol on the way
and see the rain's yearning stare
he is falling for your love today
with his heart for you bared.

Could you take this broken heart
this funeral beat, this withered soul
and take it back there to the start
to love again and make it whole.

Could you take these doleful eyes
of faded green, once emerald bright
and bring them up to meet with yours
to fill them with your loving light.

Could you love me in this moment
disregard my broken bones
shattered by another's longing
take my hand and lead me home.

If you could, not everlasting,
for a second, suspend time
would you press into my darkness
to place your healing hand in mine.

This I ask with humbled chorus
not for better, nor for worse,
the love you give it will not linger
let your blessing be my curse.

I want to express my love for you,
But what can I say that hasn't been said throughout time eternal,
So I sit here in the shade on a beautiful summer day and picture your stunning smile and feel again the warmth and joy that your look infuses me with, and like a child in the front yard with a sprinkler I revel in the knowledge that your smile is meant for me, because of me, in response to the love I feel for you which emanates as heat from the very core of my being.

I guess that says it.

e. e. cummings claims the most wasted of all days is one without laughter.
Still would you concur?
With your Duchenne smile and tensed shoulders
Disappointed at the day of somber cheer and grave chuckles
Now you ask me why they suppressing their evident sadness
I want to swoop in, to shine until my death
Oh don’t ridicule me
You know in some ways you envy me,
Even if you still don’t understand me
I promise you in time…
Oh I can’t tell you it can only get better
Life starts not by asking “When?” No…
But at the moment of the second you choose to take it on

Simple things in Life seems complicated
Brains busy mapping the branching logic
Trying out every possible options
Getting lost in the labyrinth of paths
Losing out on the options given by Life