He sits and stares unaware that the same thoughts are my thoughts
Often witnessing his adoration through brown papers boxes and
Mossy sticky tape that binds what is there together, forever? Who knows?
Really who cares or dare question true blind fate

I am fascinated that a few words that seem meaningless to one; are simply carefully chosen for another
I often close my eyes and see dreams so vivid that I never want to leave the lively viewing of my life.
So smart and optimistic are my eyes when caught wandering the landscape of this soul.
Engulfed in the artistic dewdrops and fall from fabricated clouds only to rain realism into the pallet.
Yes, paint so rich you'd never need another dime to pad your light hearted pocket.

Imagination is a river that runs from your mind to your mouth to your heart thus creating your soul.
Though it may be ancient or youthful, tired or torn its yours and yours alone.
Now music is a voice that speaks from your thoughts, artfully decorated to draw rhythm to your rhyme.
Words often take over the beat when you lay your naked body to the sheet.

That's what I feel when speaking to you, that is what my heart whispers in melody with your beat.
I am the word and you are the soul, the rhythm, and the beat, keeps me taping my feet.
The final step is two beautiful peoples to combine talent to touch and share and be uncomfortably aware.
That they must jam this soulful tune.

Dedicated to Dennis Jolin
 

Kelly C. O’Donnell ©2001