SIGN OR READ THE GUESTBOOK

 BUT I STILL LOVE YOU
More than the love that makes all of the roses grow
more than the wish that makes the breezes blow
and more than all the hope an April rain can be
this is how dear your friendship is to me.

It's higher than the highest star unseen
and denser than black holes have ever been
more cherished than the gift of life could ever be
and it means more than any love to me.

That thing I love the most I've ever, ever known
that friendship I'd have died for, this alone
I've killed myself, because the fool in me
loved this too much to let it ever be.

More than the sorrow in a clipped and dying rose
much harsher than the coldest wind that ever blows
I'll say I'm sorry to the final breath of me
for what I've done's become the death of me.
.

      MORNING BAGEL (Original Doylestown Walk)
Consider this, as buds break out on trees
not yet a leaf, the sight that no one sees
as walking through the borough mesmerized
past ancient mansions seen, not realized ;

through early morning air, our sence of smell
arouses to a bagels morning bell,
it tells us to awake, this is a day
we gain another try to make our way

past tiny shops of books and pottery
of artists that record what used to be
and at sidewalk cafes, we take a pause
considering what's real, or never was.

We hear the groan of traffic come alive
the buzzing of our time and constant hive
but who can see the budding of the tree
that's made for us to always never see?

Consider this, of time we've none to spare
to capture in our heart the birthing there
no longer for a blinking of the eye
what time has brought along, too soon will die.