extemporaneous.

Once in a while, I like to write a poem without stopping, in five minutes or less, to see how I really feel. I write the title last, and I usually don't publish the poem, but I liked this one. here goes, guys.

"when Heaven comes to view"

if ifs and buts be candy and nuts, we all may go insane.
but if the world should see me through, my life may be in vain.
to take a walk to other worlds is not the greatest goal,
but greater still the urge to fill the newly empty soul.
How should I compose myself when Heaven comes to view?
And how deny that every word I write belongs to you?
See not my form, my given name, my dust returning slow,
but see my grace, my somber face, and all I wish to know.
Yes, do forgive the kindness and the patience I display,
For just as sadness melts to joy, the night brings forth the day.
The turning tide has not replied and neither will your word,
For such a supplication gives you only what you've heard.

And shore up feelings when they burst, that one day may we meet,
And stand again amidst our love with freshly covered feet.

First Happy Song Ever.

"Kansas"
by David Stevenson

I could drive up to Kansas and talk to the folks
About riches and power and girls
I could swim across the ocean and find someone else
To explain how my life has unfurled
I could look to the skies
I could open my eyes
As I dream of a wonderful world
But I don't want any of that
I only really want you.

I could run and crawl and scale all the walls
To find myself a home
I could fly to the heavens and fall with the sky
But I don't want to be that alone
I could think of the best things
That life has to offer
And how I could make them my own
But I don't want any of that
I only really want you.