So very far away,
but so very near.
You insist you can not stay.
I insist I can not hear.
Your words are drops
on a shiny tin roof.
My silence, the truth.
What floats in chamomile tea?
Is it a pretty girl I see?
Lightly sitting under a dove tail tree?
Giving a kiss to each honey bee?
Who lurks in the shadow of our tree?
A masked man of villainy.