9 Valentines – Lock Heaven (#4)

Of all the lands, my land locked

With fluttering exotic flocks

New York City gamble by Beattles tunes

Drinking with nails in my hand, wounds

Put down your toys with the world askew

Drop me off the starlit hillside anew

Beautiful morning on a gemstone talk

Listening to the very question news

Satisfied to be so true to diamond

How much of your mind is precious stock

Back on Washington scratching cloves

Money on mind when it’s not timing

The moments together with eyes docked

On the running gemstone with none dropped

Sweeping the bag, roar of crowd, loons

Stuck in my seat, sleepy with ruins

Make this quiet dinner last all season

Under the stars, we soar into evening

Lock eyes and heaven is here, stroking our cares.

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