I paint the fields in scarlet hue, my seeds top bread and bagels too. Yet from my sap strange dreams may creep, what flower gently lulls to sleep?

Raising a child takes me, or so they say. That sounds about right, because it's a 'G I V E A L L' job.

Invisible rain from your skin, a natural shower when heat's your kin; the gym's symphony when effort's in play, or when nerves dance in a stressful ballet.

I flip to top heavy to start My innards flowing free A single metric do I mark Then sit still silently

Dreamers know life is not a calamity, But using me and the elements is just a fantasy. And ego and hubris drive one’s vanity To seek gold from lead using . . .