Poem for her 675

Dear Readers,


Dust motes

The light beam hit the two dust motes
They shined bright in the stream
Their shape was like something
But not like nothing
Nothings were running in and out
The motes were smiling in the light
The feathers were stirring their friends
Off the shelves of cravings
The ones of wood and the ones of rock
The motes were happy for dust
They liked to fly more than sit
They didn't like the piles
They loved to dance in the open air
They liked to be stirred and float
The sweet nothings clapped
They liked the lady with the feathers
Liked to love her as they touched her
Singing sweet thoughts her way
They taught these two dust motes the song
We love you, we love you, we love you
The two dust motes sang
As they danced in the bright
Sunshine
The sunshine she was
The sunshine she is
The sunshine she brings

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.