Griffin and Sabine

At six o'clock in the morning
I'd been up for an hour
solving London's mystery
reading private postcards.
The artist, Griffin Moss, was missing
Tho' a fine example of kissing
up to a worthy concept
void of purpose.

Sabine, from the Sicmon Islands
posted her tale like so--
I've been seeing your wonderful artwork;
I'll introduce myself.
Once I dropped a heavy conch shell
on my toe, and howling in pain
I exploded a tree of blue
and gold Macaws.

Pain and Beauty are a constant theme
Both are ardent gifts to you and me.
Poison, when pared with the right ingredient
becomes the healing--- if you agree,
Come to me.

Moss, from Gryphon Cards, was
more lost than ever,
dismal in the fog and
lonely weather.
Fearing books and business meetings
cigarettes and casual greetings of
maidens never made
by the dragon.

Being found and seen through
miles, seas and years
Moss' brain and heart
exploded for his cure
Lovely young Sabine was waiting
painting stamps and writing
artifact postcards from
Sicmon Islands.


Pain and Beauty are a constant theme
Both are ardent gifts to you and me.
Poison, when pared with the right ingredient
becomes the healing--- if you agree,
Come to me.