RMC

You are a call to motion,
created and ill fated illusions
swell in some great ocean
they move your delusions.

Slated for the time inside
a shore so golden so warm
ready for the foam to slide
in the warm under no storm.

Maybe I was a pill for skills
that make me rise far above.
Your implication kills
a sea vast filled up with love.

Take my illusive hand stand
to find quick a thick strand
it moves through my hand
like the beaches warm sand.

Can the warm foam alone
dethrone what you don’t know
can grab quick or grab slow,
I know I’ve let some songs go.

Slated for the time devout
I will clever and eclipsing lever
of my vice grip on my fear shout
I will at a gentle feather.

Because I’m impatient true.
Feel I do you move a little blue,
for the fool she may even move
in the grove and show me and you.

That illusions those shadows
that the sunlight it does battle
the calm in my heart shallow
the waters leave me I rattle.

Occur to the wise I am none
my sweet child my son of a gun
what moves do you have some
stand some flee and she runs.

Needs of the needy your greedy
in solvent matters you flatter
me thank you me so sweetly
and your words use to me matter.