I've heard the world can spin on hate

while resting on pure joy,

I think the likely tact to take

might foil the task we ploy,

but better yet, for fate and all

that love spins down to rest,

bringing comtemplation, calling

out our very best.

Forgive while I project

absentmindedly

my loss

at trying to understand the trying

times that pull the clock

into directions that frustrate me,

my love is still here,

maybe while I contemplate

my best will come through years...

my likely world will spin through hate

and come to rest on joy,

while the likely tact to take

thankfully foils my ploy,

'cause better yet, for fate and me

that loves spins down to rest,

bringing comtemplation, finally

bringing out my best...

copyright 2008 Rose Loya