Babush Putt: A poem

I thought I was turning the sheafs of books to an old leaf

But you can say it was an act of pulling up trees

There are things you say out of love that you mean

And you really want to act, because love is so well-defined in your veins

But the result of the act may not, sadly, fulfill the depth of what you feel!

And so is it with words that seek to pull out the Gems from the treasure box

And words simply can’t be touched, but that do they feel…?

I think love is still an emotional place that never affords a raw deal

If it is true like a clear blue sky that is both transparent and opaque

Because love can’t be seen, but it is so apparently felt

Babush putt, not a day passes without my thinking about you

You know I can talk of souls within a soul, and one of them is you