Amy Poem by Quenten McClellan

The blonde flecks in her hair
Ring soft sills in the air
As the love of her heart
Strew the world with common art

Let her breath mold the little
Lies she tells
To keep from the flies
Of hell

Watch her eyes
Sing true
As her tender soul
Forms worlds of blue

Let her chest give life
Of her child
And cradle the whimper
Of his voice so mild

Wish her blood
To froth and toy
And swirl with joy
When this world crumbles
To the hands of the sea.