Time is time my sweet love,
Ill never ask again.
Time is time my sweet love,
It has a beginning and an end.

Perhaps untrue for a shining star,
but nearer to where you and I are,
time is time my sweet love...
and we'll never be closer than far.

If I could breathe in vacuous space,
or shed my skin like a snake,
I'd not concern with ribbon and lace,
nor pay any mind to the heart you break.

Still time is time my sweet love,
the winds carry away your laughter,
time is time my sweet love,
and happily always comes after.

When the story was told to me as a child,
the princess was a beauty with temper mild,
but she would be dead waiting for a kiss on her head,
I would rather compose my own story instead.

Time is time my sweet love,
I bid thee farewell, and adieu,
Time is time my sweet love,
No one said this to me before you.

If she lights her name on fire in the middle of the day,
the smoke signal from the pyre would show you the way,
to a door left swinging open and slamming in the wind,
were you not a friend you'd wonder, how did it all begin?

Her stance is like that of an athlete-
ready to take on the orchestra-
ready to prove she shan't miss a beat-

Her breath from the floor lifts the whole room!
All rise in antipication of the notes that drizzle
over exhilirated faces like liquid platinum leaving
an ocean of polished corpus paralyzed with ecstasy.

She bowed.
And we beat our hands raw in applause!
We appreciate to the point of pain
the tantalizing tones that taught our souls
Magic is as tangible as a soundwave.

I will guess how many leaves there on a tree,
and how many sea shells there are in the sea,
I wonder if there is another like me,
who'll guess how many bees live on the lea?

If there is another who could spend all day,
roaming barefoot down a red road of clay,
Whose childhood memories he fondly saves,
while the daydreams come in endless waves,

I will search forever until we meet,
And no other pair could be as sweet.

Imagine if you were a wild man!
To wander the plains with a spear in your hand,
your home never bound to a square plot of land,
to die or live free and survive if you can.

Food is found in the river, the grasses, and air,
a safe place to sleep in the cave beyond there,
crude clothing to cover where you are bare.
There are leaves for a bed, and a stump for a chair.

Imagine if you were a wild man!
the hair on your face grows down to your chest,
See through his wild eyes, be brave if you can.
each moment you stand you know you are blessed.

Other things wild are larger and faster.
Though this wild man's flesh may be alabaster
his skin is not armored with fur or with scales.
The wild man lives off of what he impales!

Could you give up your pillows and feather bed
for a the damp smell of earth and stars overhead?

You are so funny!
You make me laugh, really.
I understand your humor,
though I'll never understand you.

You are so funny!
You are always on cue.
When you look in the mirror,
do you see me looking too?

You are so funny!
Like a man who slaps his knees.
The jokes you tell, are a spell,
and I beg you for more, please.

You are so funny!
A "tour de farce" unsupressed.
You are so funny!
Especially when I am undressed.

Why fight me when you are unwilling
to walk away with no lingering thought
When from underneath it comes spilling
an effortless need, we two have wrought.

It is no more than a road with two lines
down the middle because it goes both ways.
Highway has surpassed ancient railway ties.
A visit is no more than a bit of one's days.

It is no more than a gasoline tank,
Cars no longer use a crook with a crank.
Yet I remain here and you remain there.
With time, resource, and emotion to spare.

Our connection requires no correspondence
not by wire, nor post, nor letter by horse
Yet illusion creates our boundary by distance.

What blanket must cover this mind's eye?
to compel hesitant steps to walk beyond flames
to locate where pleasures and sweet affections lie.
Perhaps we'd begin by exchanging our names?