Hot wax words dripping
In my mind tonight
I could have been a poet
I could have made those words to sing
In a garden where all the thumbs are green
Not just this stubby candle
Not just these idle seconds
Between being someone else
I could have been a poet
Maybe I still can
Monday, October 28, 2013
After a busy day when confronting admin
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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