I hear the music playing as she falls through the door
One of seven lost no more
Face of an angel dressed like a whore
Transferred my whiskey
Climbed on my lap and asked for more
None of the others came to the review
She just lost her self in my view
Post and proper as moved across the floor
Danced a waltz
As we sashayed out the door
In a heat of passion
Made the weeks go away
Faded into
Nothing
Night gave way to day
Pictures in the mind stream
Edges on the wine
Lost to the
Verdict
Peace to
Find
Trance comes
As the paper turned to thin
Farm gave
Birth
To the child
Still with in
As the jay grew
A foot long
We dance in our
Children all along
Noting faster
As the mill
Makes it way
Faith and understanding
Can wait another day
Travel from
Beginnings end
Fences in self
Never
Ever
Mend
One of seven
Falling through the door
She was an angel
Just dressed
Like a whore
always original
Love Tinka