Lioness's blog: "The Poetry of Electricity"

Desire Is A Tulip in Spring Heart grown tired and torn, forever find the echo, where desire born of dawn was new, green lawn, sunny,hot and delicious. Forever entreating, defy retreating, Love is worth the effort worn, For weeds grow in vapid sensation, Lush foliage loves conversation And true love is a tulip stem born, Waiting eternally without thorn, A bulb just waiting for Spring's soaking, Sun's warmth, and never forlorn.

A dreamscape doorway, Midnight black, promising of nighttime sparring Pleasures and primal perfume entice Of morsels savored and midnight laughter. A scene of gentle carnage, linens torn away from careful placement, revealing the wanton bareness of our ecstasy. Could we regret the night's passion And set aside our certainties? Or shall we just accept our fate, One soul captured in two vessels. Joined for a moment's time, Electrons changed for all eternity.

The Poetry of Electricity Look at his tenuous embroidery of cables essential-- interlocking engineered magenta transcendental poetry composed of orchid--tragically sentimental, Unpretentious uniqueness, gracefully conceived. In life unappreciated, in death perhaps a hero, Judge him not for lowly station but for the gifted contribution of stable, standard, sound construction. Oh, husband, father, twist your wires Electronics without histrionics, A pioneer sampler of repressed emotion. Art designed to be functional, hidden, necessary, beautifully crafted, we trust eventually In each and every thread.