I like the feel of my shoulder,
not as strong but better older.
I squeeze the flesh ’round the bone
enjoying well a sense of home.
Skin soft like running water,
proof of love from son and daughter.
I feel my blood alive and warm
running free, a pretty storm.
Comfort comes and worry goes,
like faith and hope it ebbs and flows.
But one thing is sure and truly true,
the love and hunger I find in you.
Dance me down your secret street,
wash me in your wicked sweet,
tell me things I need to hear,
touch me with your breath so dear.
River run, river flow, swimming fast while drowning slow.
I wander, quiet in the sleepless night, once so clear and now so bright.
Do you think it should be so and you do, then how so?
Dance me down and lay me straight,
turn the key in holy gate.
As the silver storm
makes its way to the dawn
and the golden light
gives you new sight,
you’ll find the strength
of forgiveness as friend,
celebrating your tower
with gracious new power.
The water fades
giving entrance to life,
understanding the truth
that escaped you til now,
you walk the path
not yet imagined
through tallest grass
where the angels rest.
At the whisper of right
wrong is given new sight
to surrender the pleasure
by which it was driven.
Now drinking a stream
which invited the Dream
to which spirit surrenders
for the joy of true treasure.
Today is the child of yesterday and the parent of tomorrow, so engage well because time is family.
Truffle true, honey blue, laying low in heather dew.
Flight of fancy, dancing strife, searching for that sweeter life.
Children made and children sold, the blackest black and honey gold.
Mix and mix and fly it round, in hypnotizing, buzzing sound.
And if I or else of you should sing, stick us with your sticky sting.
I spat in the water and the children of slaughter,
who were standing behind me, looking out at the green sea,
took a hold of the east wind, bringing dust and disaster,
as they danced in their circle, growing louder in laughter.
I washed in the water of the daughters of slaughter,
running quickly before me, drinking out of the green sea.
Knowing well of the west wind, turning faster and faster,
they too danced in the circle, weeping now the disaster.
I like the feel of my shoulder,
not as strong but better older.
I squeeze the flesh around the bone
enjoying well the sense of home.
Skin soft like running water,
proof of love from son and daughter.
I feel my blood alive and warm
running free, a pretty storm.
Comfort comes and worry goes,
like faith and hope it ebbs and flows.
But one thing is sure and truly true,
the love and hunger I find in you.
Lorenzo Agnes 
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