Words I envision in the spectrum of time
Covertly shadowed by tempo and rhyme
Brightly and spritely they flow with meaning
A quilted environment all for the gleaning
Too full of menace, menagerie, meandering
Lightly on spice, species, philandering
All the world’s stage curtains wide now to see
The energizing pow’r of “To be or not to be.”
Climbing the ladder like Old English ivy,
Or presently plummeting down rockslides I see
The words, the worlds, graceful and gleeful
A smattering, a spattering, collected a basketful.
All of the karmic implications now gone
Thanks to the honor, none is withdrawn.
Raising a cup, I’ve no doubt to be broken,
All in my sweet life, it is happily spoken.
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