I never tired of my father's tales,
even if unsure to believe them...

This? It's my father's pocket watch.
burnished gold, keeps meticulous time...

In life he was ever oppressed
but always gave life a hard time...

Usually you look back on defining moments,
But occasionally you see it unfolding...

She wakes when Jupiter's light
Showers her sparkling from a dream...

Night rises. Soon She will come again.
Every day brings hope each night will ban...

Such a melancholy tune she dances;
the piano plies chords plaintively...

She is at the bus stop
very large and very pretty...

Rise, Aura, o'er the horizon;
Guide my steed with sinuous limbs...

"I live on the edge;
buy bread and don't even check...

If you don't open your eyes
and use your five senses...

My sun has set, I cannot tell
the weaving of the black thread...