Running punctuality and just enough, under loyalty, The way the northern winds blew my skirts was seen by a youthful sun, mouthing expletives, It was under that noon, I met thee.
Racing against cold blankets from afar, and fighting cocooned thickets of capture, see, We promised, we promised under trustees of a white and soft cottony dream. Nothing said under them is forgotten because they honor our words with a little ceremony, They find our doorstep and shed ruthlessly till lovers cry woe is me.
Now we sit royal under shadowing roofs, But is it a match for running unprincipled and free? Sun’s fiery rays, upon the crystal quiet water I long to feel, each day a week. The murmur of quiet somethings, off the brazen trees, complete with your eyes warmed upon me, Hell yes, I’ve forgotten the summer sun, That brought life in brooks, and peace to each.
As I see the reddish blue of this setting sun, I’m suddenly brought back to a memory, of me and Liv driving down the road. Her talking and me listening and driving towards the setting sun. I remember the colors,
I was crawling deep down the wood, Flowers of love blossomed on head, Red, yellow, blue, green leaves smile, Waiting to greet the lovely dawn for a while Looking at the bounty of burning sun Warming in his strong arms
Days passed, Months passed, Years of waiting- For someone might Turn up a day. Like a pomegranate In the mountains high I had been waiting, Smiling with mouths open And my pearls- dropped one by one, One after another, Till
’tis a playing field for many kinds out in the arena, to discern the companionship of the puissant sun ’tis a hot, new summer day , blithe and sound maketh thou run, run, run… syrupy voice of nightingale, fills candied