The natural sounds of trees and bees affected our mood of change
Quietly laying and catching our breath, on Spanish quilts of gray
The teary eyes of Sunday love drowned out the trains of thought
We were baited and lost in ribbon like openings of light through trees
Though pull strings of province had stretch used apart-
-flipping our notes of life,
The die casts of Fate-commissioned by Love-had stamped their intentions
-in time-
Our detail logs and work reviews warmed us as they burned
We were baited and lost in ribbon like openings of light through trees
If the Sun sent his light to redress and ease the hidden burdens we keep
We mended and bathed in ribbons of light, on Spanish quilts of gray
The need to speak in scattered tones evaded us this time
We were baited and lost in ribbon like openings of light though trees
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