Murder When The Bees Are Sleeping
snowy mountain sides
with trees on
cold winds blowing by
my season
blinded by the light
everything I see
right as rain
dead October daze
no reason
lying in the hay
with heat on
nearly stuck on you
you are rubber
I am glue
and it doesn’t have to take too long to win it back
when the bees are sleeping
days of little hours growing longer as we walk
through solemn singing
when the choir has begun we strike a pose
and the bells start ringing
past and present lights
are shining
magic carpet rides
while dining
lined up by the tides
cold and icy blue
winter land
I know this to be
a pleasure
all is entity
no measure
this my elegy
find out what it means
to me
and it doesn’t have to take too long to win it back
from a time of weeping
see the children running by with swords and paper hats
hide and seeking
and the widows had a gift for stuffing in the cracks
in the walls of wailing
