- Books, Literature, and Writing
Cotton Caught Covered Dream
Hand to me that shiny glass hand Grenade
And I say do not let go of this dull pin.
Take this letter opener and sit with me awhile
And admire those greenest cloud’s floating by.
Walk with I threw these bluest fields and scream
Out loud your animosity covered cry’s and listen
To that brown turning black soil die!
These flowers fly low!
And these birds bloom high!
Didn’t you know?
There Is no piece to tape back into this broken
Down so called ruined lettering.
The ancient letter in our bottle Is no more washing up
On our peaceful and prettiest shore!
Is It the blue tide we all so adore
No more ?