Sparks Fly coals die in fire. The plants wither as they die in the plant world. Humans grow old then they die in the human world. Does everything have to die? Why?

a misty cloud mauve, turquoise, gray, maroon, fuchsia cloud. swirling in a place far away from the bumpy hands of the world. but when the crystal stars and the moon dance together, this swirling beautiful cloud is my pillow. the dream cloud.

Let's talk about dreams. They're funny things. They seem to have Golden wings. They're by my pillow When outside it is dark. Some about frogs, and some about larks. Dreams dance and prance. They wing and sing. They can be sweet or neat. Or, let me think, they can make you weep.

Flowers are pink, yellow, red, blue, orange, purple, all the colors of the rainbow. Their fragrance is just the beauty of scent. They make the wind smell and feel beautiful. Just beautiful.

The mockingbird, dusty gray, snowy white, midnight black. The eyes singing brightly in their little head. Sounding of a hundred beautifully singing birds but really is only one. One singing, ever singing, mockingbird.

the moon with her silky shine, lacy body, beautiful, magical. as she weaves her spell. making all the ugliest ones pretty, the dumb ones clever. making it delightful and bright, bright, bright, beautiful.

Winter took her white garments and pearls away to hide while Spring is here. Spring comes with her flowery dress spreading sunshine and cheer only to fade into Summer. summer! he wears a suit of hot gold and has eyes of turquoise-blue but he melts into Autumn. Autumn comes with his snap, his cloak of orange, red and yellow, only to fall into the cold hands of Winter again.

The rain-drum beats upon my roof at night, pitter-patters on the street outside my window. But the rain-drum breaks down into the lake outside sister Rachel's window. It breaks down my brother Paul's window. But I like to hear the true rain-drum.

The sky is so big it is INFINITY. It seems so full. yet so Empty. Why? Why is it that the sky sometimes is full, and sometimes seems as empty as nothing?

The lake, crystal clear cool blue lake, trees glossy green chocolate brown trees surrounding the lakeside. A hidden pool in the forest. It seems as if the elves touched the lake with magic. The lake, the beautiful blue lake.

The sun sinks down into a rainbow, an artist's palette of a mixture of colors. It sinks down, behind the mountain down, under the clear blue sea into her cave. the sky is filled now with crystal stars and the beautiful moon.