*----( Bluejay )----*
High atop fern hill stood a golden maple tree...

There's not much difference
From sprouting trees or flowering buds...

The Yellow Moon glistens
As it flickers all about...

If I was a snowflake
I'd have my own season...

A nose knows a rose
Just by smell alone...

The silence of the night is broken
By the Dark Voices inside my head...

These thoughts that clown my mind
They put on a circus deep down inside...

Like rain to a flower
And Sun to a day...

The footprints of yesterday
Have wondered into today...

We don't know forsure
So we can only guess...

All around the outside edges
Those edges of the mirror...

She's like a spray can
That's ready to explode...