You Can Trust A Few Some Of

You Trap Yourself Sometimes, By Thinking Desire And Need Is Love. Love Is Something Far More Precious, But Something Far More Fragile. As Fragile As One Of Our Tiniest, Most Intricate, Most Delicately Crafted Toys. Hold On To It Too Tightly, And It Will Crumble On Your Fingers, But Hold On To It Loosely, And The Wind Might Blow It Away And Shatter It On The Cold Ground. Listen To The Voice Comes From Your Heart, But Be Absolutely Sure The Voice Comes From Your Heart.

Patience. I Colored Patience Gray, Hung Over With Black Clouds. I Colored Hope Yellow, Just Like The Sun We Could See For A Few Short Morning Hours. Too Soon The Sun Rose High In The Sky & Disappeared From View, Leaving Us Bereft And Staring At Blue.

Tragedy Had Sent Me Headlong Into Reality. All The Things I Had Seen Before Now Looked Different, Even Nature.

A Flower Blooms Best In A Happy Pot.

And Somewhere In That Crimson-colored Never-never Land Where I Pirouetted Madly, In A Wild And Crazy Effort To Exhaust Myself Into Insensibility, I Saw That Man, Shadowy And Distant, Half-hidden Behind Towering White Columns That Rose Clear Up To A Purple Sky. In A Passionate Pas De Deux He Danced With Me, Forever Apart, No Matter How Hard I Sought To Draw Nearer And Leap Into His Arms, Where I Could Feel Them Protective About Me, Supporting Me ... And With Him I'd Find, At Last, A Safe Place To Live And Love.