Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Trap
By the singing trees near the shining lake
We would set a trap for more and more
We would use raw dreams as candy bait
And tie tinsel things to the secret door
When the morning glory trumpet blew
We’d race like the buzz of honey bees
To pick up diamonds made of dew
And soak the pockets of memories
Through emerald fields we kicked our heels
Like young colts laughing at the sun
In the golden straw we found love’s awe
And wore daisy crowns till day was done
By the shining stars near the singing moon
We would light the candle made of truth
And let the wax wane until it dripped blue
And melted away the joy of youth
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