Love The Ground You Walk On

Don't hit the dirt, love the ground you walk on. Treat it not as though it were, a squirt, as it taught you how to burp, as a tiny bean. Should you decide instead to hit so called dead-ground at times. Hope to love, the ground is fine, like unto grounded-up coffee beans, so you that old bean or young one, can pray on it, like unto it's friend the sand. Old or young knees, can appreciate that, even if they never slurped it down as a child, with a big old smile. So for the life of it, go for it and have at it, you love serious ground lovers, you!

So as you get through, be you be, a young or old fish.Take that dish and fill it with your friend, that fights fires too, and toss it on your camp-fires, beyond the blue-flame aim. Don't forget your friend the coffee bean, before you do, so you have the energy through and through, to get the job done right.

Dirt you may not be fit for some kings to hit, that may think they own every piece of you. Dirt your more precious than some so called royal-blood can ever afford to please as you grow our food from seeds!

Know dirt my friend not foe, I know your no, red-carpet treatment at times, but to me your better than that of a earthly king. You do more than just letting me do my own thing, and make my heart sing.

I trust the ground I walk on now, and did as a child. I still wear a child-like smile at times, even when dirt not so fine as you, comes out the mouth, of some that went beyond your graces, and spoke-out as fools!

So dirt now I'll hit you more than I would the bottle, least my baby bottle, but in a loving way, or not at all. Sentimental maybe call me, but I'm ready for dirt, to save my life, by it's graces. I know you have to hit friends at times in loving ways, even in the land of the free and home of the brave. Thank you dirt for letting me hit you, to save my life!

Dirt and after, should I be more than a little messy, my fine colored friend. I'm sure you'll work on my wounds, and help my hurts out, even if the blood doesn't come out as royal-blood.

Dirt you let me wash with you, when I used to much glue. Even if it fell down my pants as a child. I drowned myself in the same mud-love as you after! Your clean to me dirt in your own way, as I was to your dirty eyes, love sees through, when you let me wash with you, as a child, meek and mild.

Now I'm older, and even though the glues, and what-not don't fall on you, least on my pants, or in. Your never a sin, to use like unto a fine sand-paper, to do the fix, with you, for me. Dirt your more than a dirty dream, for your so real loving!

Some worship the ground they walk on, and then again so hit you, and some never fight in the wars of life, to get a chance too. Dirt you've loved us all for free, at one time or another. So I choose not to be cremated, but buried in you, one of my favorite loves.

Dirt as you so live, and bring life out, even though to some you look only like unto dead ground, may you on earth as it is in heaven, always maybe not stand your ground, but rather may your ground be around never-the-less. We all need some love, so pick-up a piece of ground and feel how much it love's you, and the energy of the spirit of truth that made it, for good.

Now when I'm in your loving ground, in body, may some should I say, "Go beyond that holy-kiss, and kiss you, and miss me to, but remember I left a lot of you behind". So, instead of flooding me with those so called holy-kisses, I would hope, may they enjoy more-so kissing you, my ever-lasting friend, hope yours as well!