Sleep in my soft bed
i awake to the melody...

Somewhere, elsewhere they meet
the leaders of war torn countries...

Another one of make things beautiful poems.
emerald green, oblong...

You used to look at me
in a way that made me shiver...

Each tumbling wave tossing
throwing the ship, Aurora...

Indigo makes
a dye used by the ancients...

She remembers the kisses
remembers the touches...

Waves roaring crashing
subsiding disappearing...

Empty room filled with nothing
wooden chairs, black wood desk...

My dear come touch me, hold me
why are you so far away...

I am the chalk on that dark driveway,
drowned in the torents of rain...

Out in the open but cant be seen
every minscule trifling thought...