Be truly one with me. |
Trouble Me By Ophelia Mae Hancock December 14, 2022 Does the serpent strangle or does it hold dear? Dedicated to My Wild One My mind entertains a circutious pattern A circular route The ins, the outs It dreams of a figure eight My skates cut through the ice Or, does the ice encompass my steely blades No matter, for we still meet Sunrise to sunset Give us this day Oh blessed day I cannot complete this circle under my own devices I am a key that can use a bit of turning Turn me, twist me, bend me, mold me into a better form Make me beautiful Tickle me with your brush of crimson Soothe me with your blessing of violet Highlight me with a touch of sterling Then growl and bring it all to life Polish me, for I am a diamond in the rough A diamond that wants to glow for you Only you The soapstone glides along my rough edges Such rough edges that crave to be softened Yet growing pains So practice makes perfect Here we go round the mulberry bush The maypole Lovely ladies all in a row There is no beginning, there is no end Just a reinvestment of energies The ugly duckling becomes the beautiful swan Oh what a web we weave Eight limbs upon eight limbs still yet do not compare Exponential I imagine myself with great sinews surrounding me They tether me, yet they comfort me They assure me, Little One, I am in control I will foster you I will guide you I will free you Just let me entwine... You do not need to run You do not need to hide You merely need to extend yourself And let me blend Let me trap you in the most rapturous of ways Happiness in slavery Moth to the flame The bruised peach the sweetest Let us dance a delicious dance An affectionate tornado A gourmet symphony of the scalding fluid of life And the fortitude of energies in a tango My, how the strands of wheat dance when bathed and ignited Baptism Is a knot a problem, or a solution A tree's wandering roots are not haphazard They seek growth, and they must twist and bend to reach it They must meandor into the soil to achieve such Tie the ribbon upon the gift In the most loving of ways It's the thought that counts Tie the yellow ribbon round the old oak tree Just so I know |