easter (to the goodman)

swimming the cosmic ocean

taking simple souls aligning them

against a light, talking in my sleep

still. still not getting rest

but ill hallow the graveyard church field

with one of my good sleeping pills

taking the turn to the sight

of natures oak and resting

by her ponds gives the nerves

a sense of childhood

that seems to be knocking still

upon the cradle door

observing my inertia

my being, my room

takes me back to mum

thoughts of giving birth

the mirth a child brings

a church bell la innocence

does still ring

maybe older then 16

but i wish to be and still believe

as things as if im 3

where bunnies leave the sweets between the shelves

and santa warily takes the presents

wakes the child from his sheets

and carefully places them under the tree

i wish for us to always be merry

and always believe outside your limits

whether its devoted love in relationship

that ever burns to carry

or if it on the great man Jesus

keeping him a pacifier by your happy self

or maybe

while laying in bed

you will experience the mirth

of being and sharing health

and love increased

as im aptly trying to sleep

these thoughts i do think

i believe enough to sing

always always wear the ring

and may fairy tales give you thrills

as sleep comes in

my sleeping pills