The girl of twelve told me,
A different but then the same story,
That boy of four told me,
His idea of what life should be.
Death is my friend.
We lie together on the ocean blown sand.
He is my gentle guide and saint.
Ah green, I love my green.
It's the traffic light's nicest scene.
Green is a traffic dream.
You can always keep driving, driving, driving.
Clap your hands for you,
Clap your hands for me.
Clap your hands in synchrony.
Salt and pepper shaker,
Talk to me a lot,
Whether the customer,
Does it seem that this field,
Laden with wild thorns and wildflowers,
Mean that thorns would gain power,
Over freshly blooming petals,
Bees, birds, bugs and bobcats,
Mice, rats, rabbits and wildcats,
Blossoms, bunnies and bladder pods,
Ducks, bulrushes and butterflies.
The Jewelry Box
Among the glittery movement in the jade swaying
I never ever wore lenses
I once met you, in the middle of a forest.
I pretended I didn't see you.
Your garb so beautiful, your voice so sweet.
It made your grace so complete.