Left my heart twirling;
whorling in the whirlpool.
Sweethearts a-hanging,
thumbs a-banging sugarplums.
My hair rapunzeling, enraptured,
captured by fairytale-pirating.
My heart as red as an apple,
shining from wax, waxing upon
the sugar-moon, crystalline
catastrophe of high-cheek crimson.
Heart, pleasingly plump, round
in the palm of the beholder.
Bereaving the helplessly bound
breath and palpitations; no rest.
The song of the ages; sages
are mad with platinum platitudes.
Drifting, my soul cascading;
spelunking into recesses
of caverns, cold, distant;
teeny feet fettered, forlorn.
Ferocious waters, funny waters
hold onto the beating with vines.
How divine to let go; let the rapids
take me real slow, circulating
through arteries and veins;
throbbing with sobbing, regress.
Peachy, unpretentious, potent,
progressing to the end of the ride;
calm waters preaching, teal grass
with its daisy chains reaching,
holding me fast in gracious arms,
drying moon-eyes, sagacious.
My heart never needs to lie;
Sincerity is paradisaically prosaic.
Simply birds chirp, chirping in song,
belonging to a cloudy day.
Simply birds plink, plinking paradisaically.
Wee angels with harps in their wings.
Simply my teeny, tiny forest at play.
Tweets twine like ivy, inviting a smile.
Simply the sweetest sound of mirth.
Sans birdsong, saddest silence on earth.
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