Hey vio-let bro,
sonic blurring,
mind funk whirring,
guitar spurring,
beaux –
I think I must love you;
for my age, I’m too young
don’t fit in my school;
still I know a star
when it’s earth far flung –
you’ve learned me the notion of cool.
Hi, lavender youth,
wink me a grin.
Sky spirited
no limited
kin,
guitar guild that light hymn;
sing high melody prose,
violet peach and rose.
Triksy dip trip-hip,
lofty kick split pose,
your deadliest darndest caper choose.
Dance on royal mate,
street slick smarting,
flash glow hearting,
ace pro axing
great;
bizzle wizzle, punk twirl
tassle twizzle whip furl,
you fearless easy
pre Beyoncé girls,
shout too loud new world,
work them celestial drums and keys.
And though later years,
love proved dimming
fascination,
and paisley poems
rare
seemed no inspiration
of yours my favourites still:
the cheer cavalcade,
twice timed octic raid,
love God geek, text speak,
omnipotent transcendent thrill.
Shut up already,
dude man divine,
so headily,
freak – tatstically,
fine?
But though your mortal frame
no longer leaps nor lights,
‘til the very end
your songs will be friends,
their lush faiths suspend
Zion forever, in my life.
