I sent you glorious sunflowers, wider than Van Gogh's breath.
Your soul flys gloating on wings of a dandelion seed umbrella.
Your torso shades the world bringing the color of Greek sunlight.
You're young without joints, debt to the IRS, or worry in the sternum.
Dance as a prickleypear, lemon thorn, and mace thistle protect your garden.
Sing from inside the hands of the hawthorne and let me hear you.
God, sing louder, please.
Where is your amplifier for fun?
We need a little Hallmark, Danny Hall,
corny and full of doe eyed characters, please.
Our homes are happy, we have been fed love and it is all good.
I'm reading another fortune made of heavely sugar.
Next one says to lay off necco candies or fear the drop.