Sunday, December 18, 2011
The future is a myth story
told in hopeful gray,
as the past is seen through
eyes that went teary
To those frozen memory moments,
you will thaw in my favorite ink.
To the mercury moments yet to be,
I look to affect your fluidity.
However, it's the hardly soft tick tock
of the watch I no longer have
that summons the spiced holiday coffee
with it's aromatic confidence to the moment
There are 1000 things you can take
or give, or share...
Of these, I release 999 joys of neon splendor
to violin legato rhythms so that they will be
savored with the scent of sweet chocolate
and tasty salted treats as they are gripped with
a comforting firmness.
But the last one,
that last joy is mine alone.
Only to be known by my
pencil and paper.