A BOSSOM Behind that gold crested chamber Rest your serene unleavened divinity A risen old creed of your last feast -living word that breeds men I asked...
Could there be a faith More gray, genetic and Alive as this sacrament? Your enclosed flame Burns of wax and incense Flickers a steady light Unmoved by protesting breeze I heard, You are the iris of the tebernacle No wonder your closed lid Signs a mediating semester: Sick souls kneel Stringed beeds dangle In several strands Devotion...
so amazing Ooh! mysteries of the altar Such wholesome grace You dispense without cost Do allow me A whole day in your bossom "and surely" Yesterday shall pass over me.
IF ONLY Why do i fervently Confess your beauty? It's passionate It's benevolent It's marvelous It could have stopped The Tsunami in Thailand, If only you were there! Women...
scurry to your sides Children...
climb to your arms Could have calmed at your feet ...
and the THUNDERING sea Could have calmed at your feet If only You were there.
WHEN  I listened To hear aches Beating within The enclave of your heart, In yearn, i wait but do not see You close to me A bleed stood in place of your face ...
speeches were calm in a mood That sickened my very eyes with numerous tears from the torn sky...
Fall Fall Falling Am cold...
Unable to hold Your absent fold Untie me From the cloth of your pain I wait in between the stream Hoping to live again in your warmth.