*----( Bluejay )----*
High atop fern hill stood a golden maple tree...

There's not much difference
From sprouting trees or flowering buds...

The Yellow Moon glistens
As it flickers all about...

If I was a snowflake
I'd have my own season...

A nose knows a rose
Just by smell alone...

The silence of the night is broken
By the Dark Voices inside my head...

These thoughts that clown my mind
They put on a circus deep down inside...

Like rain to a flower
And Sun to a day...

The footprints of yesterday
Have wondered into today...

We don't know forsure
So we can only guess...

All around the outside edges
Those edges of the mirror...

Since technology is frowned upon
There's no computers or laptops...