Anthology of Verse, 17. #0759

--Death 1.

--You have never seen me living
until you've looked into my eyes
for in this life that I am giving
all my image is decaying ties
for the skin you see about me
is dead protective matter
but my eyes are there to see
and are not dead like is the latter.
Five hundred thousand million cells
are washed off everyday
looking in my eyes you'll see dells
where flowers dwell in colours gay
They're live as are my thoughts of you
or so you'll see when'er you look
for now I've met you the skies are blue
and you may read me as a book.
What is life that we can say
that we are living here at all,
with death all round, protecting decay
can only be to us a call.
< Simon.T. >
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