A writer of trifles and whimsies constructions of air soon forgotten.
the years picture shadows play, hanging like baubles on the tree.
reflecting the time gone, time yet to be.
some radiant with treasures, string of lantern lights
I know I need to buy some socks
A mundane thing, oh and cut my locks.
I need to make the unmade bed,
Make a list, clear my head.
Again you perform open heart surgery
with the skill of many years, blade wielded precision,
a sharp serpents tooth venom filled,