fitting in,
acceptably hushed,
alienation photoshopped, airbrushed …
at home ?
not this rolling stone,
bruising my rattled self to the bone,
enveloped by walls,
as each evening falls,
shivering as desolate morning dawns,
painted smile,
shushing rising bile,
my fatigued soul yawns,
a being who fawns:
the perennial exile … … …
Banksy
may your gentle all-embracing warmth,
be forever by your side,
and may you always walk the soft beaches of destiny, at the coming in of the tide …
May life shower you with love and laughter and truth and peace and health,
as your generosity of spirit remains a wellspring of your ceaseless human wealth.
May your dreams be boundless as they soar through hopeful skies,
the hopeful skies that I see,
in the chocolatey universe of whipped cream delights,
that reside,
swirling,
in your beautiful eyes …
Scribbled Verse 