The Gnomes On the Lawn At Cambridge Arms
Life's passions all absorbed on green grasses
as the innocent treasures tamed and measured
accordingly we shy away the aftermath of past
stoned bridges enhance the connection point
while the cold calmness unwind the myths
for our must we define a place hidden where as
the teak wood stained with old disagreements
left unsaid and so morbidly left undone
as we hinder to blades of shame while
the light in the chambers of this excellent
brownstone manner as the banner swing
my own practice in my own time as this is
my space a place where inside looking out speaks
to the gnomes on the lawns why the rain leaks
the lost pebbles from pass over showers
distinctively poured like clock work and yet
the client approaches the foyer the beginning
of a sit down as the Lincoln doors are doing
an open and shut dance for the laws in the land
as I charm the gnomes at Cambridge arms
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