Meiyuuki

Love is, The smile that is sent your way It is the soulful sound, Of singing on a dark and gloomy day Love is, A funny, fickle thing, That can bring you to your knees, And the only word that you have left, Is "Please" Love is, More than you want, But all that you need, And Love doesn't care, If you bleed Yes, Love is, All of this But Love won't, Heal all your wounds Sometimes time is the only, Medicine left to you Love won't dry all your tears, Or drown all your fears Indeed it seems, That Love causes these Love is, The cry of a child in the night, When only loving arms, Can chase away her fright Love is, Wanting

Floating away on the softly flow stream a stream of sunlight cutting through the canopied leaves. Carried far into distant land waking from a restless dream.   Swimming through the clouds I see how often and unopposed the truth can be. A beckoning call from smiling and out reaching hands to steal from those who dwell above. An ever-stretching trickles down that flowing stream seeing the ghastly give way to love. The streams ever changing shape lulling you back to sleep. To dream of laughter , and swimming in the clouds above. A simple traveler searching and drifting away.

Clouds are suspended masses of water, Droplets communing through common desire. If a cloud can feel lonely then a city ought to, Logs from anywhere can become a pyre. Each unrelated, purpose-defined, "Birds of a feather", "Of a like kind". Clouds are directed by currents of air As they blow hot and cold o'er vale and hill. Going where told, no thought when or where, You have no opinion when you have no free-will. Each unassuming, uncaring and cold, Easy to master they do as they're told. The vales are streets lined with man-made cliff faces, Soil-less and soulless they're no place for dafs. The sheep run along them losing their

My bike is a vintage 1973 Raleigh handed down to me by my father.  The steel frame I use to bike those forty miles to and from class every day is the same one he used on his campus, way back in the Bronze Age.  Sure, I've replaced the brakes, the shifters, the chain, the pedals, the wheels, and about half the rider, but the core of the thing is unchanged. It's only natural, then, that I was replacing the brake cable when I discovered them.  I'd been inserting a Dremel bit to cut some sheathe when I thought to wear eye protection, and what should I find when rifling through the mess called my father's garage but a pair of glasses that could h