In the dry heat and Dust, long have I walked. I am Parched. She comes like one Long awaited, to My care is she sworn.
They would me forfeit My lovely SUV and Drive an old Civic They want to take what I’ve earned because they can’t see My value.
A word must exist First before you can say it. Thus does word create. Every letter is A number, put in sequence Shapes the sound
I am Simon calledPeter, my name stands for theBalance of justice With mercy, the swordIn the stone. In me find theWisdom of ages. I am
Never were true words Spoken. What is manifest Is illusion. The Real poem is so Indescribably perfect, Just imagine it.
I wondered why we consider the serpent in Genesis 3 to be a snake. He’s often depicted as walking on legs, as the snake was