Money Or Honey Comfort
Convenience blooms like money,
So the high and mighty brags, but
A garden watered fresh, with
Honey bees sanctuary, and
Hands that's been there, done that
Souls once bruised, but
Cared for like rising stars,
Comfort comes in any color
No complication
No cunning,
Just simplicity of humming.
Each root in fertility of truth
Spring forth
Chasing frowns
Like compassion
Simmering frazzled heart beat;
Each palm of hands, a
Warm zephyr touch
Temples clean of turmoil, turn to
Feel the love from Source above
Priceless -
I've known such love
So for everyone,
Every living thing,
Love suffice.
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