Letter to Liz. Geez, its a quiz!

I thought for a little while
    (and it was like a trial)
But on my tongue, there was a slight taste of thyme.
    (do you like thyme? I do)
I was waiting for any rhyme and wasting my time,
And I think it might come to crime.
    (if I wait too long)

Yeah, I know these my lines are sh*t,
    ('cos they are, indeed)
But you could make them split,
    (if you want them to)
Otherwise they can surround,
    (and pin you down to the ground)
And these silly words would fill all around.
    (and turn into a big grey hound
     making terrible sound)

So, beware of my river of words,
    (you can drown, there's too much of them)
If you're not afraid to get lost in the other worlds
    (very distant, have to say)
'Cos I can play with words
As long as I wish.
    (or until the sky falls)

In any tongue, there's still nobody home,
    (but the lunatic is on the grass, you know)
Though you won't feel quite alone:
    ('cos every day the paper boy brings more)
I'll be with you with my madness beside,
    (and also inside and outside)
And when summer comes, we'll go to the riverside.
    (or anywhere else, I'd rather choose ZOO,
     or U2,
     and maybe you TOO)

Now it's time for me to end
This silly letter on the sand
Hold it in your little hand
And remember that the words can mend
Everything in you that cannot bend,
And everywhere across the land
You hear how it breaks instead.

Well, that's all,
I'm going down the hall
To dig into the hole
And turn into Mole
To watch the River
And listen to
The Wind in the Willows.
    (by Kenneth Grahame, yes)

13 XII 2015