The Weather Draws on Me

Rain, you fall on my noggin and sweeten my strands with your drops of affection.
Your tireless effort dawns all setting suns to mild perfection.

I am your cup of tea while you are my sweet spice of desire.
You are my mid day chill and I am your weathered flame of  fire.

I am your canvas for snow,sleet and rain,
as I stand out under you, in howls of laughter,in giggles of pain.

I let you draw on me, your drops tracking down my skin,
your elegance, your slight of hand, your magic touch within.

Call on me under any skies my clouds of wonder,
I will be out there in hail, lightening or rapid bolts of thunder.

Draw on me, I’ll stand, lay or sit
whether or not the weather is fantastic, super, beautiful or shit.

 

For you are the artist,
and I trust in you.

 

Lightweight EarthStage

Putting on ballons. To wear them running.
Attatched as well, with lightweight fabric that the wind is going to do nothing but caress.

Soul of lightweight touch too.

Strands of hair dancing in wild with the strands of light.
that filter through the branches of all the trees.

Feather pockets and around neck and tugging fabric at all your skins creases.
The weathers amusement.

The trees brand of entertainment.

Coddling the grass with toes.
Devouring gulps of air that’s falling into darker states.
As the sun sets
lighter than all the shadows.
on the stage of light

Ballooing into a lighter being of adventurous.