Dying Worm and a Garden Hose

August 18, 2010
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Weeping willows chill my pillows,
Heart strung heart strings hardly heard,
A table turned by boring subjects,
A girl that whispers every word.
A note that floats on yellow coats
In oceans with the sailing boats.
A duck that acts but never quacks
And likes to ride on camel backs.
Some rhymes are potent others pure
Some days just never end it seems,
But never the less, the more is best
When discussing love and moonbeams.
A garden hose that no one knows
Is home to a spider named mr. Moes,
A dying worm whose dying wish
Is an explanation of the cosmos.
A swing of wood left unattended.
A broken heart left unamended.
A word created but unexplained.
A golden treasure unobtained.
Like secrets in an open ear.
Like moments fly on year by year.
Love a flicker, flame, a snow.
In a hurried wind does the leaf doth blow.
And never will the worm doth know
Where the camel with the duck on his back will go.

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