Above the mountain ridge gulls always soar,
like waves crashing against the coastal shore...

as Jesus walked on
water he began to feel...

A thread caught in my eye
as I looked, by and by...

as the bugle played
wind blew their memories back...

By grassy edge of gallant pines,
I breathe the effervescent spring...

persuading needles
from a dwindling haystack...

a grief tsunami
swirled around Notre-Dame’s spire...

his angelic voice
broke as innocence was stained...

Down on the pond
And the lily pads sit...

Travelling pins,
Red hot and long...

you will never know
of pain until you unearth...

Surrender those kisses
That made my dreams...