Onion high, secret inside
each layer a ride.
With an inner sense
Held by a picket fence.
...
The Onion High
Onion high, secret inside
each layer a ride.
With an inner sense
Held by a picket fence.
None will know
This source of my glow.
My many survivals
are in a world of rivals
With each layer a friend. Comfortable in each skin
Accepting mystery within
And mastery of the air surrounded
Each layer keeps me grounded.