What is that thing sweeter than honey
That even bees depend on to survive?
What is that thing you can’t buy with money
That if broken requires itself to survive?
It puts me outdoor to dance
In the rain with Rynel my life;
We dance, we prance and bounce;
Yes, until night winds arrive.
Hoots of the automobiles
From my youth streets beyond,
Lace our nights from miles
My sweet dreams be dawned.
I run my arrow through the holy places
And my soul is bathed with ecstasy.
My angel moans upon my races
How I hate the ceasing tendency!
Is this the thing sweeter than honey?
Love, which Rynel freely gives?
It truly is too expensive for money
Neither is it an item of thieves.