OH THE DAFFODILS ARE THREE WEEKS EARLY IS IT A SIGN THE WORLD IS ENDING 

I FEEL YOUR HEART  THROBBING THROUGH MY VEINS UNSIDE THERE IS NO PLACE NOT FILLED BY YOU THE TUNE YOU HUM FILLS EVERY CORNER OF MY MIND YOY ARE EVERYWHERE I AM  

IT IS ALL THERE  NOT PARIS ON THE LEFT BANK WE HAVE NO NIGHTINGALE BUT WE HAVE THE THRUSH AH THE THRUSH WHEN IT SINGS WITH ITS BREAST BONE PRESSED INTO A THORN AND SINGS IT HAS NO RIVAL 

I GAVE A CHILD A LOLLYPOP TO KEEP IT QUIET Trump wants the world to keep him quiet

AN EMPTY SHELL ON THE ROADWAY THE SNAIL HAS GONE WHERE TO  I DONT KNOW

A WHITE DROPPING ON THE ROAD PERSONAL HIGINE THROWN OUT THE WINDOW

AN EMPTY SHELL DISGUARDED ON THE ROADSIDE THE SNAIL HAS GONE

A TINY SQUEAK FROM A GREEN BRANCH A YOUNG ROBIN CALLING FOR ITS MOTHER

I HAVE THE GIFT OF ONE TO BE ALONE WITH SOUNDS TREES LASOOING TIDES A BAG DRUMMING IN THE HEDGE A THRUSH LEARNING A NEW TUNE A STAIR LAZING ON THE BRIDGE AT ONE WITH THE BEING OF ONE IN THE MULTIPLES OF GIVING GRASS LACED WITH DEW FEARS DISOLVING INTO NOTHINGNESS BANISHING MEANESS THAT… Continue reading I HAVE THE GIFT OF ONE