So here is the drill - -
Keep me posted.
Always.
And were I to have my deepest wish,
It would be
To let
you
pierce
every part of my soul with sweetness,
and linger there
Till the blazing light lets singing explosions
ring unto the laughing noon!
Praising hands will be
'raptured 'round
the ticking clock,
And the pulsating
of that second hand would become
Pure stroking to pollinate nectar,
minutes melted to every flowering
Seconds of smiling.
Can I have seconds?
I will be your clock. I will be your round.
Take me to your boss of riddles
and you can introduce me and make me fiddle
into your time card
And we will dissolve into timelessness
And for ever I will be grateful for overtime,
for sated bliss, is it too much to schedule for unworldly woe?
Oh let the complainers moan (as they do always).
There isn't stopping a complainer they are loaded with unresolved pockets -
They are unwilling to release their loads
Because then they would have no riddles to complain about,
no meals to ever enjoy. God forbid a complainer ever savor!
Yet I cannot keep their company of unsatisfied forks.
How could it ever not be
A dancing teaspoon a laughing cow
Jumping over the moon
And the fork run away with the spoon - -
How could it be? Let me pierce into the moonlight of your eyes
And remind you without worry for mindlessness.
We might rock
We could crumble
We will roll and cocoon,
Sprinkle
in a boat of spun honey
until stress and pettiness of the pendulous globe
is fully rested, and lullabies of your arms
dissolve into fairie-like chants which
Ride the hills and dales,
valleys and peaks without a permit - -
Let the Ranger Of Love
issue a citation. I don't care.
Pierce sing,
thread the hours,
bewitch the unanswerable
Horns Of The Hounds,
Bay and howl to pierce sing
hours towards enlightenment, once again - -
Yes, keep me posted.
how thoughtful you are
Always.