Fire! Fire! Burning bright
London Bridge is falling down
falling down
falling
downnnn
In the darkness of the night
My fair Prince.
Will you build it up with wood and clay?
Or then bricks of gold?
Wash those piercing eyes away,
and the smiles that speak of old?
Singe that darkness, smoothness, brightness
I know.
You caressed to life.
wove those locks,
carved those teeth,
lit those eyes so bright
They died.
If you see a speck of dust-like
glittering, glittering
as you walk along a long bare road
as you snuggle up against that couch
as you grip that steering wheel…
stop.
only a moment.
Put it in your pocket for me?
Maybe fingers twisting
locks of curling hair,
Sweaty palms
Songs in an ethereal falsetto
rare smiles… hide those speckled monsters;
These random lines.
I’ll write
them back from you,
soon.
My mind is
Peacing itself
apart.
“Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” Matthew 7:6 (NIV)