The beauty of a silhouette.  Dark.  Moonlight.  The sudden splash of lake water.  An owl or a lark.  Swoop of wings close to my head.

Swing high. It is only the street lights.  Swing your legs harder!  Screaming laughter and I can’t make it any higher!

Beautiful Miranda.  A girl only.  Saved by Merlin, who held a triton.  Love will always fall in love.  It was the first Adam who walked on an island.  To declare it occupied.  And conquered.

Millions are a lot.  Cars drive by the bump.  Oblivious to the true meaning of electricity.  Orange cones and red stop signs held by gloved hands, hiding skin.

Who are you?  You stare as if I am naked.  It is icy and colder than you think.  Ice and water both break…….  There may be no end to the long wait.

I remember the look of love.  It is ice and smouldering masquera.  A cigar with attitude.  And an accent.  I follow it with a sense of vanilla.  This is the other room.

I am of Michaelangelo.  My bones are marble and my skin of ivory.  People will miss the target.  Mice and men will always be about the lost one left out.  It is more than a smell.  The candle wax is drying on my fingers.  It is warm.

The chance is sung in an all-about-all-people song.  We are led to follow this tantalizing hope.  A home smell of chocolate chip cookies.  Ready to crumble if touched.

Time is going by.  Time is mesmerizing.  Time is slow.  We will fail to notice the time.  I will be home by the time it is dark…….   Because when I am outside, the sun will tell the time.

Happiness is a smile.  Beauty is a circle.  Laughter is contagious.  The purple flag blows in the wind.  The fan is on.  Red.  Orange.  Green.  And Purple.  And Papa Smurf wore the red hat to match with his blue skin.

Today is late.  There are too many minutes.  The clock runs fast.  The staring is like an animal preying.  The song is beautiful.  Have a run on the Hawaiian beach.

I would like you.  The tallness dwarfs me.  Hold on to the rock.  Wind, Rain, and Waves cannot change this place.  We will stand forever.  Face of the music.

Train of tracks and fire, running on steam.  It is good to be dressed.  Keep the doors and windows open.  You may need to jump!  And watch out for guns.  I would want to be close to the engine.

The first street is truly shallow.  Fish beach themselves on the wet sand.  Waves bury the corpses with silt from the bottom of the ocean.  My feet follow and I cringe my toes into the shallow depth.

It doesn’t get salty until you reach the edges.  And then, go far.  The wind will desiccate your eyes and your mouth.  Don’t swallow!  And stand, dry bone, with sandy, brittle hair.

The male chest is smooth muscle.  Take it in black and white.  The grey picture reminds of young birthday parties where laughter and screams drown the fun with  happiness.  Sweet drinks that make me burp, and pizza and hot dogs fresh from open fires.

We wonder about the matter of time.  It must be doing something.  It can bend the universe of nothing so that the sun pulls the planets toward the centre.  The circling pull of gravity is from a black hole.  Nothingness bending to the call of time passing.

Is there a limit?  Can we get lost in space?  Or, is being inside the universe just the easiest existence?  I wonder if I will breathe faster, feel warmer, or see the love of God if I were to fly out there?

Do we see loneliness in the dark of space?  Or do  we see the scaffolding of God’s structure holding earth, the planets, and the moon, close to the centre of the sun?

Beauty is always remembered more beautiful when it is alone.  Quiet.  Sweet.  Standing.  Quiet. Full of hope, and dropping all stares for closed eyes and sighs.  Let us hum and intone the beauty and the moment.

I was there.  The fresh landscape with pine and log cabin.  Cracking of stepped-on-sticks.  Surrounded by woodland animals.  Majestic.  Clean.  Bloodless.  Free from rodents.  and litter.

This is the last night I was somewhere.  The drive took one day.  We were never there before, and have not been there again.  The beautiful smell.  The easy sight.