Thursday, February 02, 2006

To my fellow muse and troubadour

So imagine, this
This conversation, this one
that one, and so on

Like a tree in spring
bearing leaves then blossoms bright
ripe fruit; fall's bounty

The days with friends
Who speak their truth, openly
Tomorrow's butterflies

The dialogue we're on like the Yellow Brick
follow, follow, follow, follow
follow the Yellow Brick Road