23/10/2006 10:03:51 AM

Universe

Specialty in roses

is all the pain of a silenced kiss,

mirrored by a yearning for the gluts in madness,

a fool's nest in retrograde

with the same brushed back whiteness

associated with a silver - haired peasant in yearly praise,

untouched yet but with the rhinestone

feathers, fluttering back and forth,

too and fro',

here and there,

with a narrow pathway to the golden stairs

of six feet, each little toe bobbing forward and backward,

lifting a pale eyelid to the rising beat of the harrows' spin,

to rest once is to be destined to a life of flight,

flitting away into the sun,

forever fate's new sun to rise, reigning Queen over

the Sparrows' new found glee.