From the ash of creation rises
Like a flaming Phoenix of destruction,
Her seedling of succulent sweetness
Growing with the beauty of a fiery, fire opal
And resembling an ethereal blue spruce

Noble with its incredible girth
Wise with its slow ancient like stretch
Beautiful with its deep blue of depth
Vibrant with its tactile tentacles of reach
Simply a pilgrimage of a basket full of dreams

Through the vastness of nothingness
Travels her spirit on breath of gilded wings
Reaching with fondling fingertips
From a pair of gossamer graplings
Gentle and light yet cuttingly crisp
Done with neither expectation nor needing
Anything to be boated in return

She weaves my heart and soul, opens it in a manner
That can neither be explained nor understood…


only accepted

Very nice...very, very nice.

Thank you for sharing.

thank you roberta and kim

Great Title! Very fitting. Not implying your a basketcase. It' just fits the write well.

thanks bro thought in many ways I am a basketcase are not all deep-ish thinkers that feel? lmao again thanks for the read and comment