Much truth and beauty are most fitting garbs,
For halls and houses of an olden praise,
There is a sweetness on the air but oh
It comes to me in symphonies and daze.

The swelling love for life, yet more for him, in this-
Oh undeserving man of all the blessed furnishings of life!
What grace of Grace to condescend with true loves kiss,
And give the world within his very son to me.

The laugh returns,
My bordline in rhyme,
The cheekiness is mine,
To misconstrue into a joke,
The sparkle threatening to poke,
Out from my eye to whom concerns.

Brewing over a mug of equations with a friend,
Carving out a graph beside stark circuit lines,
Weaving up a story to encapsulate the fact,
Cooking up an abstract thought of tiny things,
That make up all the ticking clocks and buzzing air -
Our plane is ready to depart.
Tomorrow we make our escape from all these eager pictures.

Computers sitting in my days,
Screens to hold maths, physics, code,
Keyboards to freeze my many words,
A mobile slab blasting tunes and plays,

And they sit there humming in my days,
Momentary corners filled in my abode,
With flashing lights to tell me loads,
Captivating info in the stalwart rays.