who wants to fly when the wind blows ripe
what sky hopes to hold one so bold
rather stay low to the ground this day
with each wheat stalk bent above my eyes
gold buttresses of transparent cathedral

watch corsair clouds seek the longing lost
eyeless white wonders blind to the hidden
throwing threads like reaching arms
moist fingers touch like love dropped kisses
as if to say –

"take care to move my sweet
lay long enough and I will carve a smile
upon your face with perseverance"