Right…¬†

With rise and fall of right and all

Moving on again to its peak from finish 

I wonder if your love for me will diminish

As in the past some of us were strung 

upon the most local yew

and I fear I will be forever a hue askew 

an other, 

diverse 

from the rest of you. 

Hyacinth

You see
It lies in the false titles
given to those that bear the fruit.
To gain a recognition for deeds done,
the end goal not always in sight.

See… the warmth is blue,
a sombre heat without light
A form of cold pragmatism,
through exchanges of pregnant love.

You see directions are issued,
But to what end should that suffice?
We don’t all crave a destination, but instead
to be hooked – within two arms.