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  • Going Jazz
    Juliet
    26 Jan 2002

    My pen in your hand
    your warmth on mine
    Dancing circles,
    spinning steps of hope
    scratching dreams of tomorrow.

    You strum bright-coloured paints
    they melt upon my sounding waves.
    Bubbles fluttering, hugging,
    snuggling tunes of colour
    splashing hologramic hues of possibilities.

    I smell your heartbeat,
    you heard my smile.
    My Suns beamed, Your flower flushed.
    Yellows will warm while blues bathe.
    Hands clasping,
    heads meeting.