A short poem I wrote in the hospital. I think its about before and after I met Adam.
She's shaping, shifting thin to dust, shrinking treasures in a chest robust.
Weeping willows sing the tune, Income, Outcome, Back to Noon...where she lay in a coughin, waiting for air.
Her bones withering frail, shall he find her barely two breathe.
Pecking at her eyes were the birds of despair, of the ships crew, saddled up ready to be fat on stew.
Her Captain knows she lays asleep, shaping, shifting, with every Wake.
When they hoist her high Once A More, she will be singing of love on Sandy's Shore.
Fresh and pink, her skin aglow, know forever more her heart to grow like a flower planted bye seeds God's hand's love, amore to understand.
She's shaping, shifting thin to dust, shrinking treasures in a chest robust.
Weeping willows sing the tune, Income, Outcome, Back to Noon...where she lay in a coughin, waiting for air.
Her bones withering frail, shall he find her barely two breathe.
Pecking at her eyes were the birds of despair, of the ships crew, saddled up ready to be fat on stew.
Her Captain knows she lays asleep, shaping, shifting, with every Wake.
When they hoist her high Once A More, she will be singing of love on Sandy's Shore.
Fresh and pink, her skin aglow, know forever more her heart to grow like a flower planted bye seeds God's hand's love, amore to understand.