Within the imagination I am content to live This is my stay I see how plenty, how ever-expanding it is The ‘All’ a rich array Of ever-rotating colors with which to paint And never fade away
This is my stay my glorious garden, my bridge My gateway Into possibilities scarcely heard Fair whispers and inclinations Where new music can be made With purple compliments Providing shade Beneath which, Rich ideas have no graves Only wellsprings and matinees Inking inspiration It is here I eat, sleep And pray
Yes, this is my stay Where time knows no days And worries have no prey Where upon Parsons picnic blankets Are served golden words Which only ever convey A never ending display Of heavenly ballets And opportunities to say Anything you wish Poetry, Book, or Play For within the imagination Inspiration Never disobeys Yes, This Is My Stay….
Reached, not yet pubescence: a cloud says, moon was crazy, treading on a forbidden lake of frozen tears. Breaking fast unto death for releasing the doves in sky of hymns. The gametes were weary. Procreation will wait. Let the dark
I stand with a humble heart searching Seeking the name and the power There is in the glory of Jesus My Savior, my Father adoring Everything that is from you, Lord Jesus I believe and I trust you my Savior
Brambly winds has shaken the buds of your may And may be your coral is much more red And in the blue Mediterranean where she has lay The dreams of a crystalline streams by her bed Past her garden where