The Priory Lit. Mag

You are like a cloud,
drifting in and out of sight,
leaving the sad sky.


Music in your lungs
ocean water in your veins
make me fall in love.


Brown-green eyes hit me,
an underlying softness
caresses my face.


Fools will be fools but,
only fools are fortunate
to a young lover.


Rock-a-bye baby
your breathing is so calming,
hello lovely dream.


One, two, three white sheep.
Four, five, six black sheep. Will you
be with me, gray sheep?


Hope springs eternal.
Three years later my sister,
you spring with a laugh.


MAN is not a male,
but rather, three young women
tied with a thick string.


Ah, farewell my friends,
parting gives me wrinkles, but
wait! Hello again.