“Precious words assemble in the mind
Leave me breathless, unable to mutter a sound
But pen presses text of the precious mess
Bursting from reckless violent kind.
Write something sweet, a phrase sublime
And take your precious time, ‘cause what’s the rush
Everyone must give it a chance to grow
“it” being love planted with seeds of solace.
And he kept singing his song
Purposely precious for me, greeting and leading
This lost lady around the block
Meeting her match in precious places of harmony.
Don’t stop, precious prince, because
You have become so venerable to me
Keep singing your songs and playing your
Poems ‘til the cows come home.
Precious words all aligned in perfect time
With future prescribed in florescent boom
Of a Beatles tune
You sing your request, and I will, I will, I will…” – Megan Marie Seaman