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.
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