I see faces, faces of the dead. I see them in the embers, I see them in the clouds, I see them in everything, even in the wall. The faces of the famous and kind are larger, I saw the grim reaper, above him an angel. soon after I see the devil, above him St. Micheal mounted, his lance crashing down. I have seen heaven it is in the coulds and nature around us, open your eyes and see. ----- Kisses for dandelions, Lilies for Valentines, Death for Roses. I see your face, Out on path that only martyrs take, So I take your hand and walk with thy, To dandelions, lilies, and roses. Think of that to a 70's folk song tune/medieval minstrel. I made more but forgot it before I could write it. It sounds familar, but the hard thing is figuring out if it is orignal or a memory relapse. P.S. Spell check ruins/safes poetry, its a paradox. ------ The clover has begun to sprout.