HOW, long ago one day, I felt my pen accross my hand, and then I wrote upon the sand, my plan, to form my lustfull waste, in dream my sweat did pour again, my pen related. Dream, said I with tears in my eyes, she closed the door, in reproach, my room was dark, and filled in dream, she did stop my infant need, to my suprise my love you calm my fears, and hold my tears.MARY said the poet related to her said the poem, my name is oz, and said the girl named mary, today is a sunny day, but you will not tell me my dream. Very well said the poet, today is the period in time that all your thoughts are renderd kind, and I said to my sad self, did cry, no said mary, today, you will be mine, and much reclined upon my skin she wept, and said, my love, my love, before this day is over, your world will recover it's dream, ahh said the poet, what a fool I've been, my pen, my pen. Yes my pen has dried my tears, has calmed my fears, has planned for years, ahh said the poet reclined, time, time, time, you considered, me a ryhmn, and suddenly with time we forget how old we really are, aye said the poet, what fools we must be, to consider time, time, time, aye what an infallible cure, love, love, love, is so unkind, she prepares you with energy, and calls you her friend, yes, how lonely we become when death is one in one, and time walks out the door, you fool said time, with me you were rhymn, with me you were ryhmn. The poet sighed to himself, and said very well then, may all things subside, and crime, and years, filled with tears, fall upon me, here, she left unknown, and she gladly whispers words of peace, words of dream, to the farmers plow, and sharers crop and memory's sublime, she did find. THAT I EXIST WITH TIME