Tolerance was once noble creature none resent
The wilting moons snow grass,whimsical breathtaking
Wood wards clived unto by sunshine ,choreographed
But that in jeopardy whom it indispose
There was no blended salvaged, moon capsule
Castle owners in the oblique opera

Unknown because it sounds as a figure
It is like sl--ce without the u.I aberration
Shard was weeping in shades of umbrella
The sun was a broom, first Olympians
Ran marathons and of dispenseries fell
Bringing the tidings also the deities fell

he's really my true love - I saw him first
I took one look and weakened at the knees
I thought, to start, my heart would nearly burst
but, damn it, now he's Kimberley's new squeeze

O fickle heart of finger, that of fate
he smiled and stared, so sensual, at my lip
when Kimberley called out to him to wait
pretending she was swooning - 'bout to slip

Fate is a strange thing so they say
and I at three long score of years
know that come 'most any day
I might pass through that veil of tears
before you have the chance to know me.
Such is the grinding of time's gears.

It may be that many years from now
you'll look through an old photo book
then pause with wrinkled curious brow
at my faded picture someone took
then start to wonder about me
as through faded film my eyes look.

Cacaphony
wakes me
beneath the floor
the television scores
mingle word per
words
before the night
slips away
you
before the dark
wakes me
dreams

fumbling for purpose
more in dream
then awake
down the stairs
the main room
dark
save the light
of an oven hood
the blue room glow
of the set turned low
television stampede
of ads