When all else is gone...dark takes the light...alone and frozen cold...in the cold hell of night...comes a man in a cloak...his eyes warm as the sun...don't give up my child...your life is not yet done...he says with a sound so true to my heart...failing...thumping...dumping...anew...go run in the forest...fly with the fairy...lick the shimmering honey suckle morning dew...your a forever soul he told me so straight and so clear...I almost believed him even though he was queer...Come hither my little druid...and bring your coffee tin...it isn't without a candle...for it was left by your kin...your grandmother Marion K...new you'd come around...and pick up your quill and paper...without a sigh or sound...she called me from the grave to bring you a little light...that you may keep writing...throughout the wee wee night...
I can hear her words of wisdom...each time I yield my pen...And I'll carry her never ending candle...in her coffee tin.
Nana...I miss you so so very much.
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