Absence of color, falling like fierce rain.
Cool breeze chilling the face to intense pain.
Dead tree standing looking like a twisted mess.
Out of my element, I do confess.
I am a Southwestren Bell, do tell.
I prefer my State washed by the swell.
Rather be basking in the summer sun.
Playing volleyball in the near nude is fun.
Standing on the mountain, looking at the run.
Do I see if I find a tree, it takes only one.
Move my board, at the bottom, a people horde.
Too late, going down, faith now in the Lord!
My illness, C.O.P.D., cannot control all of me.
I have a mind that will always own the sea.
Imaginatiom can take me anywhere.
In perfect health, I can be the Queen of Air!