How wearied a miles they have seen 
What battles fought upon their mount 
How splendid and yet putrid indeed 
To imagine the horror in their recount 

Must we ever continue this way 
Disregard our master is 
If only man would…

Sometimes when we lay upon our treasure 
I sit and stare at you forever 
I trace the lines down from your nose 
Down navel, legs and down to toes 
But always at once my eyes return 
To those small hairs…

Small wonder how the choice renown 
Of heart connection be with strings 
They both vibrate and make their sound 
In unison with our small things 
A whisper said with loving tune 
A silence bent with hate attuned 
I call to…