Requiem Driven Strings ~ Two for Tuesdays Prompt VI

Pic by lardacil on Deviant Art ~ Requiem Aeternam

~

Christmas is usually a time to celebrate

The birth of a holy child

~

But for some

There are a few requiem strings

Attached to a young boy

Who needed time out

From exams

To clear his mind

Driven

To the depths

Of a river

Near his home

~

Some hear the music of stars

At Christmas

See glittering gifts

And read the colours

Of happy cards

~

Some hear

Water music

Tumbling over

Unforgiving

Stones

See old grey storm clouds

And read the crumbled

Fading note

Yet again

3WW LXXV ~ I submit my term paper with bonus poetry ~ Apology + Distant + Consider

Pic is from The Honor Society of Phi Kappa Phi
~

This is a humble apology for not submitting my term paper on time.

~

I forgot to re-plug my plug into the socket

After the horrendous thunderstorm had passed over.

I did not want all my distant learning to go to waste

So pulled the plug on all electric connections

Just in case I was zapped inadvertently.

~

So when I was back online

I was just using the battery

To complete my masterpiece ~

And the battery died

Before I noticed its death thoes

~

You see

I was so engrossed in your set work

I simply did not notice

~

Dedication

As you see

Does not always pay

~

The final result was

I not only had a blank

Dead screen

But my term paper

Now did not exist ~

There was simply no opportunity to save it

~

So, my lateness is due

To a total overhaul

Of my thoughts

On a borrowed laptop

~

You see

I have sacrificed my comfort for

Dedication and

Persistence

~

Before you consider

A penalty

Please reflect on this remarkable excuse

I have concocted ~

And at least give me a few

Humble

Marks

For entertainment

3WW LXXVII ~ Acupuncture ~ Apartment + Began + Numb

Pic from Tree Hugger This is Tribeca Green, Battery Park City, New York City. The roof is irrigated with harvested rain water, and recycled water from the apartment's toilets.

~

Since time began

Man has wanted some Eden space ~

Some picnic playground ~

An allotted escape

From the wheels of the world

~

But slowly

Apartment towers

Remind us that we must watch

The traffic

Carefully

Always

~

And the best Eden

Now

Is the numb one

Of acupuncture

3WW LXXVIII ~ Whose Money Tree? ~ Money + Tangled + Understood

Pic from Tribute Postcards

Tangled in the money tree

Is your bank account

Not mine ~

I understood

A long time ago

I simply take my money

And add it to

My burden

Leech Woman ~ Prompt #45 ~ for Easy Street Prompts

Africa is the place to find secrets

~

The secret for combatting aids

Could be held in

Sutherlandia Frutescens

Growing wild in the Western Cape

And in the hills of Zululand

~

And the barren Kalahari

Holds some of the greatest secrets of all ~

The secret for curing obesity ~

The scarce Hoodia plant ~

Coffee in the desert is no problem

With roots from the Shepherd Tree ~

And the Devil Thorn ~

Great for puncturing the feet

Of soldiers and horses ~

Completes its whole lifecycle

In just two weeks

(So find them fast!)

~

And if you think the cactus

Must hold the greatest secrets

Of all in Africa

You think wrong!

No indigenous cacti grow in Africa ~

They are all imports ~

(It is no secret

That prickly pear varieties are an

Unadulterated pest)

~

The secret for eternal youth

Aaaaaaaaahhhhh

That is the story for dreamers ~

Especially filmakers

Who think the cradle of answers

Lies in darkest Africa

A sci fi African jungle

Captured on film in the 1960's ~

Orchid pollen

Combined with the pineal juices

Of the newly dead

Creates the wine of eternal youth

~

It takes a hungry woman

To ravish the blood of men

In the passion of love ~

Like an Amazonian warrior

Bent on being a goddess ~
Like a Black Widow spider
In a world of the elusive

Black Orchid

~

Like a

Black Death creates

A Black Phoenix

Secreted in the tombs

Of Africa

~

The Boardwalk ~ for Jane's Inspirations

Pic by Swinster94@Photobucket

4 Word Prompt: avail chaotic eschew frantic

Living at The Boardwalk the beach truely is your backyard. Here you can walk directly from your back door to the one kilometre long surf beach along the hardwood boardwalk that winds through the coastal dunes. This is coastal living at its purest. ~ The Boardwalk ~ Sunshine Coast Queeensland

(Warning: SURREAL ADVERTISEMENT ONLY! Elements of truth are here somewhere!)
~
ALTERNATIVE LIVING ~ ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BOARDWALK
So you thought a boardwalk was just some lonely string of wooden planks stretching out into some chilly stretch of water?
So you thought a boardwalk was just for life escapees and the odd crazy fisherman?
Think again!
Queensland's Sunshine Coast has a boardwalk made just for you!
~
*Live a dream by sunny tropical seas with stunning views of Mount Coolum nearby!
*Let chaotic living be just an unfortunate memory!
*Avail yourself of one of the home and land packages ~ strictly for dreamers with a sizeable bank account.
~
*The Pavillion is set low to sea level to capture every lovely sea breeze throughout the entire house. You may be lucky to wake to water by your bedside in the high tide season! But only if you're very lucky!
*The latest land release, The Waves, offers a mere 5 minute walk through coastal dunes to Marcoola Beach. There are no frantic roads. In fact, there are no roads at all near the sea! So sturdy shoes are strongly advised. Or you may prefer to go upmarket with a bike and extend your adventure on the biking trails to Coolum.

(Aside: *This is Green Living at its best, in spite of the fact you must eschew the hefty price tag to enjoy Green Freedom.)
~
**And a special feature of The Boardwalk are our exclusive outdoor showers, augmented by the rain when it feels so inclined.
~
P.S. Marketing is a wondrous but frantic thing. It can sell you a dream; make you pay the price for something that should really cost nothing except time and energy. It stirs a sense of urgency and "must have" with cost as a silent, devious partner.
So for now, I will accept the dream and nonchalently brush the price tag aside.
~
I will avail myself of my local Dromana Pier and walk the old wooden planks into the sea of Never Never Land. It is the best way I know to let sea breezes untangle chaotic thoughts. I eschew it will cost me nothing (except petrol) to drive down the mountainside to the beach. It's just a 5 minute drive with picturesque, well-kept softly-winding roads all the way!

Corporate Risk Trapeze Artist ~ Prompt #44 ~ Easy Street Prompts AND The Gamble for Writer's Island

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

Cash flow risk

Earnings risk

Operations risk

Financial risk management

~

Cash flow river

Earnings tree

Operations logging

~

Circus animal

Trapeze artist

Ring Master

~

Roulette

Cards

~

Send in the clowns

~

Torrid Cauldron ~ for Writer's Island

Think of torrid and you think of heat

Passion

Love affair

Sex

Even

Hate

All human

Unbridled

Cauldrons of heat

~

But what might be

A torrid room

A torrid window

A torrid home

A torrid street

A torrid country

~

Is that the makings of

A torrid world

Regardless

Of Aristotle's Torrid Zone?

~

The 2000 Olympics in Sydney

Showed how fire and heat

Can survive

Harmoniously

~

The torrid games of life

Can find gold

Melted

In a cauldron

~

The lighting of the Olympic Cauldron was one of the most spectacular aspects of the 2000 Sydney Olympics. Cathy Freeman walked to a pool of water and as she swept the flaming Olympic torch across the water a ring of fire sprung from the submerged Cauldron. The flaming cauldron, with water cascading from its lower flutings then rose to be joined with the mast, which emerged from behind the northern stand of the stadium. The united structure ascended to a height of where it stood for the duration of the games. ~ Pic and comment from Sydney Olympic Park

3WW LXXIX ~ Answer Under Glass ~ Question + Token + Glass

Pic from British The Unusual Gift Shop

Your eyes were filled with a question

When I left you lonely and longing

~

As a token of my love for you

My answer is preserved in glass

~

My answer is conserved in glass

~

My answer is locked in glass

~

The glass is not shatter-proof

~

Quacky Cranberry Fling ~ Friday 5 ~ for Poefusion

Friday 5

fling

cranberry

winsome

prey

quacky

~

(With apologies to the website Sweet Mullets for creating an alternative description of both the Belgian style India Pale Ale {an obviously delightful ale} and Cranberry Beer. But it is all in poetic fun and entertainment. There is no intention to discredit these products in any way!)

~

Belgian style India Pale Ale

Is worth a rash fling on the wild side

~

Pear and orange blossom scents blend

With a hint of mild, floral spices

To create a final sense of sweet

Quacky, malty, hoppy bitterness.

The perfect marriage of twin souls

American and European

*************

Three great brewing traditions have come together to create a truly unique beer. Beginning in Great Britain, (1790’s), the British India Pale Ale was shaped by function, to get beer to troops and colonist in tropical climates without spoilage. The high alcohol and hop content warded off spoilage and the beer survived the five month trip from Britain to India.

*************
But cranberry beer is utopia

Deep purple wells in a bottle

With a malty sweet tartiness

An instant, warm flash of winsome sighs

For fresh cranberry; Wisconsin's state fruit

Will prey on the traveller's mind

**************
Inspired by the brewing style of Belgian Fruit beers and being a native to the great state of Wisconsin the Captain developed this style to reflect his love for the Belgian brewing tradition along with his love for Wisconsin.

Spring ~ for One Single Impression

A spring is a naked healing place
Where souls find neutral hot waters
Where bathing in glowing earth embers
Becomes a crystal light journey
~
Crystal Journeys
Celestial song
In dawn colours
~
Bathing in the spring waters
Of morning
~
Siesta balm
In afternoon seas
~
Dreaming in the marmalade
Of middays
~
Lonely hour
In lonely spaces
Drunk on dark wines
Of midnight
~
Medicinal vapours of the earth
Are the breath of eternal spring
Relief from the pain of winter’s chill
And the hurt of a stony kiss
~

FOOTNOTES: In Arkansas the National Park Service estimates the hot springs in the "Valley of the Vapors" have been used for at least 10,000 years and respected as an honored and sacred place by the Indians. It was believed the springs were the home of the Great Spirit who in using His breath brought forth the healing warmth of Mother Earth. These springs were neutral ground for the Indians where warriors from all tribes could rest and bathe in peace, a refuge from battle. ~ Peninsula Hot Springs (pic from website)

In 1979, natural hot mineral springs were found deep underground on Melbourne’s Mornington Peninsula. On a 17 hectare property in Springs Lane near Rye, the 50ºC waters rich in healing minerals flow to the surface and into the thermal pools.

Peninsula Hot Springs opened in June, 2005.

A Thought for Peace

IMAGINE PEACE TOWER is surrounded by a Wishing Well Wall on which the words "IMAGINE PEACE" are engraved in 24 languages. ~ Pic from Elding
~
Now is a good time to perhaps remember that it was only October 9, 2007, on the small Iceland island of Videy, that Yoko Ono unveiled John Lennon's dream ~ on his birthday.
~
Ono explained that the tower came to Reykjavík partly because she did not want it powered by fossil fuels and also because, “Iceland is in the north, and in mythology the north is where the power and wisdom comes from and we can spread the power downwards.” ....The light will shine every year from Lennon’s birthday (October 9) until the anniversary of his assassination (December 8), as well as on New Year’s Eve, the first week of spring and other carefully selected dates. ~ Iceland Review
~
Videy occupies a historical place in Icelandic history, being the location of the nation's first stone building and the site of its first church and a monastery.
"I have chosen Iceland for the Imagine Peace Tower because it is a unique eco-friendly country," Yoko Ono, 73, commented at a special conference.
"Eighty per cent of Iceland's energy is provided by water, not oil. Because of this, the air, earth and water are surprisingly pure and clean.
"Geo-thermal energy has made Iceland independent, and I think that Iceland is now more independent than any other country. ~ The Age
~
Perhaps, until the Olympics are complete, the Imagine Peace light could be turned on. After all, this is a special occasion for both One World, One Dream AND One World, Many Dreams.
~~~~~~~~
P.S. INTERESTING FACTS: Iceland has one of the highest literacy rates in the world and one of the lowest crime rates in the world. For more interesting Iceland facts (check out bananas and Coca Cola) see Iceland Tourist Board.

Fire Bride ~ Prompt #2 ~ for Easy Street Prompts AND Totally Optional Prompts

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

Miss Havisham - Miss Havisham is the wealthy, eccentric old woman who lives in a manor called Satis House near Pip's village. (Pip is narrating his story many years after the events of the novel take place, there are really two Pips in Great Expectations: Pip the narrator and Pip the character—the voice telling the story and the person acting it out.) She is manic and often seems insane, flitting around her house in a faded wedding dress, keeping a decaying feast on her table, and surrounding herself with clocks stopped at twenty minutes to nine. As a young woman, Miss Havisham was jilted by her fiancé minutes before her wedding, and now she has a vendetta against all men. She deliberately raises Estella to be the tool of her revenge, training her beautiful ward to break men’s hearts. (Estella - Miss Havisham’s beautiful young ward, Estella is Pip’s unattainable dream throughout the novel. He loves her passionately, but, though she sometimes seems to consider him a friend, she is usually cold, cruel, and uninterested in him. As they grow up together, she repeatedly warns him that she has no heart.) ~ Spark Notes on "Great Expectations" by Charles Dickens

~
20 minutes to 9
Time stopped
Frozen life
In Satis House
~
Heartbreak has nowhere to go
Once it is carved
Sharply in ice
~
One shoe
Graced the wedding foot
Lame
Yin and Yang
~
One soul
Turned karma into a weapon
Tame
Raw
Gullible
Innocent youth ~
A child soldier
Who never knew
The games
Of a child
~
20 minutes to 9
Is an eternal flame
Transforming
The phoenix into
A wrinkling
Parchment
Fire bride
~

We're Just Friends ~ Prompt #17 ~ for Easy Street Prompts

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

We’re just friends is
Your platitude
Not mine
~
I can face the old track
To yesterday ~
Relaxed
Even in an old borrowed
Green velvet arm chair ~
But you just bring your formal
White-coated blindness
And pleasantly
Adopt the role
Of a plastic doorman ~
Bow stiffly in the doorway of yesterday
Open it for me ~
Then walk away
To your next
Sugar puppet
Your next
Iced mannerism
Your next
Stringy smile
~
But if you turn around right now
You may find
I hold the real red blood
Of your lipstick ~
The one that is not yours
The one you stole from me
The one you wear on
The back of your
White white
Jacket ~
The one you can’t see ~
The one I hold
Limp and grunged
In just one hand
Powered with boiling revenge
Tautly psyched for the next
Cannon shot
~
It is called
Betrayal ~
And I know ~
It looks remarkably like
The meaty coils of
A heart.
~

Waiting for the 9:15 ~ Prompt #46 ~ for Easy Street Prompts

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

Drama Queen
I know that’s what you think
Splayed out in party dress
High heels and all
In some old arm chair
I have obviously dragged
From some curbside
Junk dump
And here I am
Waiting for the 9:15
On a rusty old
Disused
Overgrown track
Which obviously has not seen
Any 9:15
(am or pm)
For quite some years
~
And the smoke approaching
Is quite clearly
Conveniently detoured
By an accommodating wind
From the old chimney stack
That also should be considering retirement
~
So what’s the game
You think?
~
As usual
All you see
Is what you want to see
~
As usual
You don’t see
Me
~
I am the girl
10 years ago
You were going to marry ~
The 9:15 is your train
The one you meant to catch
But somehow
It slipped your mind
~
It was the last train
On the last run
~
But you retired from our destiny
The grass between us became overgrown
And the wind blew the smoke
Of our fire
Away from your view
~
So here I am
A discordant note
In the symphony of your time
From yesterday
~
This drama
Is your drama
~

Opaque Champagne ~ Drops of Poetry for Poet Sanctuary

Drops Of Poetry® Word Station--- Left click on any word below to drag it and start forming your poem! ---Words Updated On: March 15, 2008
but then be decide my would it aspire like ever you be while giving over of and brother as to ask Mother have for I not moody captive thought the any envious noble that knew wooden branch his sap Spring tulip lotus beauty the of scent smell flower bloom bud leaf a sit I charming President poetry by stable army in writing bending flowing falling deer wilderness white curl stones mist blind shimmering Travian field resource blood shed attack village alliance build troops gift I pink dye egg grass rabbit Easter blood goblet drink lamb goose feast God Sunday palm petal delicate green driven wanted wet little book television 1936 door lamp dragon fingers chair blossoms girl cat opaque shine bubble splash pour fizz champagne matches incense fireplace flirt wink candles giggle lit lipstick cordial sip vines winery ferment polish the I it we a an when then which on

~

Opaque
Shimmering
Mist of
Champagne
Decide
The beauty
Of the branch
By bending
Charming
Moody blossoms
On wilderness vines
And when
The sap
Matches
The incense ~
Flowing
Falling ~
Shed it in
Delicate
Captive
Writing

~

Memory ~ Playing Bridge ~ for Jane's Inspirations

Playing Bridge
Some summer moons ago…
I lingered away holidays…
Walking…
Walking familiar drives…
Walking to seek a new look at the small things…
Missed in the daily haste of highways…
Imprisoned lanes
And traffic lights…
~
And there, tucked between gaudy facades
Of gummy colours and red hot sales…
Was a park…
A tall tall elm…
And a bench and table…
~
Tender coated shapes
Hunched over the table…
Poetically tapered fingers
Lightly held
A bunch of cards…
~
2 shadows…playing bridge…
~
I began to walk daily…
To the park…
Round the park’s elliptic secrets…
Through the park’s dappling lights…
~
And any time…
The dews of morning…
The glare of midday…
The hush of late afternoon…
~
Always…
2 shadows…playing bridge…
~
But that was many summer moons ago…
~
And today a friend told me
I should read a book called Geophysics for the Wandering Spirit…
A book lost in the dust left by
Gummy colours and red hot sales…
But still there…
A tiny crystal trapped in the web of progress
Waiting to be discovered…
~
The book was written by some guy with a PhD in Geophysics…
~
Who loved to play bridge…

~

Other Side of the Fence ~ for Easy Street Prompt #29

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

Divisions, barriers, boundaries
Are just a few words for a fence
But unlike stoic, crusty walls
Fences have many viewing platforms
~
Many perspectives lurk in tiers
All framed in some tight, organized lines
Wooden or metal parallels
Hold a gallery of tactile frames
~
The other side of a picket fence
Is often a cottage garden
Budding with aromatic herbs
And nostalgic daisies and roses
~
The other side of a wrought iron fence
Is draped with sweeping royal walkways
Neatly clipped geometric hedges
And perhaps a King Charles corgi
~
A fence style is often a lifestyle
Parading a clear dimension
Where another side of the fence
Is another reality
~

Epilogue
I am the other side of your fence
I am landscape you dread to tread
~
I am some wild Serenghetti
Just a dot on some forgotten map
~
You are the silent, yesterday’s fence
You are the endless, lurking tiers
~
You are another murky fence
You are my other reality
~

Limestone Carvings ~ for Poefusion: Monday Mural

pic by dlfreund ~ Limestone Carvings

Like a frozen waiting game
Whitening expectancy ~
The prologue of dialogue
~
Stonehenge echoes
Longing for the sun or the moonlight
To make some sense of it all
~
But 4000 year old Callanish standing stones
On Lewis in the West Hebrides
Could be older links to
Celtic mysteries
~
Does that mean a closer connection
To the why
And the when?
~
Or can we only finger
Limestone icons ~
Turning them listlessly
In ignorant palms ~
And hope
The next chess move
Is the right one
~

Upstairs ~ Easy Street Prompt #107

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

The mind is a wonderful attic of cobwebs and secrets
A few pools of knowledge
And the occasional raindrops of wisdom ~
It is where the skies celebrate a seasonal corroboree ~
Storms, sunlight, dawns and sunsets
Wallow in a crucible of delights and agonies
~
Upstairs
Is the treasure trove
Of peeling family portraits
And the moment when some child
Simply drifted through life
On a garden swing
~

~
I have created a video using this poem.
The video represents how creative writing may live well in the digital world.
Click on the link on the right side bar!
~

Synchronised shopping ~ Easy Street Prompt #110

(Pic from Easy Street Prompts. For more inspiring pics for writing, see the Easy Street Widget on the sidebar!)

Shopping is not just shopping malls
Locked into temptation galleries
Where credit cards lean into debt
And morrows gum into yesterdays
~
The beauty of synchronized shopping
Is carrying an empty spirit
To a misty mountain by the sea
And letting the soul of the landscape
Buy you a hope laden dream
Free of use by dates and fashion fads

Hoodoos ~ Drumheller, Alberta

Pic by Monika-24 on Deviant Art
~
A crinkled world with grained secrets
Ancient pimply domes scarring earth's face
~
Frozen contortions like sphinx relics
Luminous riddles thatching Time
~
Like a moonscape of yesterdays
Begging to breathe alone; lost in peace
~

The Poetry of an Old Face

Pic/drawing by butterflybutcher on Deviant Art

~

The years stroke the face with extra smiles

Hair sweeps long in wild abandon

He is all he needs or wants to be ~

Living mirror of destiny

~
But the eyes are charged with dynamite

Rare knowledge and fiery wisdom

All you need to know or want to learn

Is there glistening deep in his eyes

~

Margaret Atwood's "Surfacing" ~ for Totally Optional Prompts

Ever since reading "The Handmaid's Tale", for high school studies, I have been totally fascinated with the work of Margaret Atwood. But I have selected "Surfacing", her small second novel (of 1972), because this one seems to be fragmenting in the wake of more recent "heavies" such as "Blind Assassin" and "Cat's Eye."

The setting is a remote, wild island in a northern Quebec lake. The narrator travels here to find her missing father, and slowly finds it is actually a journey of consciousness, peeling away the layers of her own past. The young woman travels there with her boyfriend and two married friends. All shape the perspectives of her journey.

Using quotes from the novel as a foundation, I am the narrator voicing a kind of shredded, dramatic monologue.

I envy people whose parents died when they were young, that’s easier to remember, they stay unchanged.
My father is a vague being
Shaped by his island and people there ~
When I am ready I will find him
If he is ready to find me
~
Nothing is the same, I don't know the way any more.
Perhaps I am inventing pain
Because I fear to face our shared pain ~
Is it more hurtful to run away
And never know what truth there is?
Or face the shadows of agony
And free fall in a wise abyss?
~
I can't really get here unless I've suffered; as though the first view of the lake, which we can see now, blue and cool as redemption, which we can see now, should be through tears an a haze of vomit.
Billboards announce island lifestyles
Blue Moon Cottages sound so tempting
But peeling paint sours the magic ~
One diseased spirit knows another
~
Now I'm in the village, walking through it, waiting for the nostalgia to hit...but nothing happens.
I am a soft, damp parchment slate
Longing for a pen to find me
Longing even for some stray ink pot
To spill some ancient life on me ~
Even my mother's old diary
Is no key to what I should be
The weather and duties are noted
But thoughts and emotions are empty ~
I was not there at her funeral
I was just a blank page to her
~
Probably when we get there my father will have returned from wherever he has been, he will be sitting in the cabin waiting for us.
I need hope no matter how fragile
I must know I am shape and substance
~
He turns toward me and it's not my father. It is what my father saw, the thing you meet when you've stayed here too long alone.
Surfacing from deep water worlds
I know there is no heart in darkness
~

Déjà Vu Dreamcoat ~ for Writer's Island

Pic by Liv-one "Looking Back" on Deviant Art

~

It was a day of seering winds

And whining rains ~

When the soul needed

To huddle

In a room

Bristling with fires

And old memories

Time had forgotten

Till now

~

Grinding

Splitting

Crashing

Metal

Still pin-balled

Around her mind ~

The visual horrors

Cranked by

Like convulsing

Skeletal frames

~

If only she had not been distracted

By new music

On the radio ~

If only

She had not reached ~

For just a second ~

To turn up the volume

Heavy metal music

Today

May not have

A whole new meaning

~

Like discovering a dreamcoat

Déjà vu is coloured with wisdom
~

Surreal Worlds ~ for Totally Optional Prompts

Surreal by Rogervd on Deviant Art

In my mind

Sharing an exotic

Hawaiian cocktail

Symbolises

An endless ocean of bliss

~

In my mind

Dreaming on an endless ocean

Means touching worlds

Kissed by endless rainbows

~

In my mind

White purling skies

Refract blue light

Glowing

Peacefully

~

In my mind

A touch of wings

Is just my soul

Flying

Surreal eternity

~