by Lydia Martin
Oozing over floodplains of tenderness,
Washes away the guilt of neverland.
Dripping down obsessions lonely abyss,
Carves a magic groove to rock the ages.
Oh voice of wonder, berate me not.
The thunder of words I cannot stop!
Shards of tenacity,
Bind you well like the locks of Medusa,
Holding on to a lost soul of beauty.
Dances close, like the dreams of a father,
With bell jingling laughter pealing the air.