My mistress' eyes

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such rose see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go,-
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love is rare
As any she belied with false compare.

William Shakespeare (1546-1616)

Drums

Pop a squat
on the thrown
take the hickory
in your palms

Feel the music
take you over
imagine fans
in your basement

Reaquaint
with rhythms familiar
cymbals crash
at your demand

Bass drums boom
fills explode
hands a blur

A love for music
expression
speed

Twinkle, Twinkle Remake

Burning, flaming distant sun
Untouched and unkown
Deep in darkness up above
Brilliant spark
Burning, flaming distant sun
How so untouched and unknown

So Much Depends Upon

So much depends
upon
A child's family
and love
When confidence
is low
Love and support
will grow