Watered Wine

Watered wine from the vine is fine. Mine is for thoughtful hearts, starts My professional peace. Pieces of arts And recessional dues are clues to past. Vast desert dreams and schemes deem Me to see freedom pressing on a beam. Seems as though the fro goes through Me daily, as Paul and Art sing - tingling My brain, straining to hear by ear Their muses. I use my own tear And fear I'll lose my kind mind. Rind Of orange off the tree nourishes me. Deep, dark murky dreams haunt the sun. It's fun to shine, see rainbows in rain. I'm slightly insane and vain. I remain True to one God. Above all else fails. Blue rivers, green leaves, leave me Wondering how His wonders came to be. I drink and think of it all, have a Ball doing my thing. I sing, I dance, Romance and ponder. I wander in such.