How neatly
The poetry
Poetry
Is best left beside you
Not neatly arranged
On the shelf
Out of easy reach
Scattered and askance
For when the call
From Emily with Wallace
Comes
One does not want
To hastily arise
And untidy
The home.
A gift meant for another
Lies within the clutch
Awaiting the delivery
One must not covet
Or even in your haste
Of life
Forget the languishing
Gift
As another
For whom it’s meant
Perhaps teeters upon
The edge of
Tottering.
Beautiful
Just tell me
Everything beautiful
Beautiful dream
You’re beautiful
Oh beautiful for spacious skies
Everything is beautiful
In its own way
Think on these things
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