If I say I need you,
it's not all in my head.
If I say I knead you,
I must be making bread.
The "K" is silent in
English, I know,
instead of being "guttural"
in the Germanic style.
The word kinder
is German for child.

Jump up and down
you old, aged clown.
Please leave us now.
Just get out of town.

The morning dew kisses
the flowers in bloom,
bringing a new brightness
to the morning gloom.
Sparkling reflections
from the Sun's early rays,
bring all of the joy
to viewing the grandest of days.

Bring forth the noise.
Bring forth the sound,
of wind chimes at night
with the cry of an Owl.

When your stomach starts
talkin trash to thee,
your lactose intolerance
may be a new allergy.

It is no longer a day.
It is too early for night
as the first stars appear,
bringing us a Twilight.

Here I am Lord,
sitting with pen in hand.
You made me no promises
of when my time would end.
My life has shortened,
as the days pass by.
I will not ask you
if I can still write Goodbye.

The insanity I feel,
will hopefully, soon pass,
for if it doesn't,
my style of writing,
will no longer play,
for I write of love,
hate and dismay,
of being unable to
complete another sentence today.

My thoughts are a jumble,
No longer from me,
for I've lost control.
It's now time to flee;
to run from here,
as quick as I can,
and become for the moment,
the old Nowhere Man.

Weep not for I,
for I march alone,
across the plains
to the unknown.
Near the crater,
amongst the trees,
to a place which
will not freeze.
Dumb are these words,
in this strange verse,
for I say out loud,
this is my dearth.