I write with elegant style
Starting at the middle of the page
This pretty black ink without the sage
This beautiful page of works lack the rage

No more crude skies of green rubies
You, my object of the Emerald Crimson,
This letter falling into grace like orange leaves
Scattered across the sky shading all the blue
To become a tree, restless, swinging, fruitful
Air blows through the trees, heavenly sieves
Drowning out the dew, leaving lighted hue

We could do anything in this watered world
An exception to infinite ignorance
Leaving beauty to pretty to elegant ~to hold
And spawn those of fair of glance

Could you walk along the path of this confusion
Come outside and walk with me
Kiss, spin in my arms in utter profusion
We are simple, upon the simple, sparkle of the sea
But simple is beauty and beauty is this wisdom tree