Millions of bottles lay smashed,
devoid of shape and form,
they turn into miniscule grains,
of sharp edges causing pains,
yet still I hammer late into dawn.
Running from city to town,
leaping to catch the grey shrouds
from the sky,on the sly,
behind the rain birds that fly,
collecting rain clouds.
Amidst the forest by early light
by hand tweaking the trees,
waking their boughs snoring
shaking their arms unsparing,
to create a frantic breeze.
I paint the glass on the ground as the beach,
I rain the clouds as sea,
the breeze that I gathered,
makes the sea froth and lather,
speechless you stand by me.
I remember when you composed,
your dream to be proposed,
today I have brought it all..
except the Moon who refused,
to be the diamond, less enthused
as he would shrivel in your presence...
Will you still say you will wait..
for the perfect date?
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