The Hamster Whisperer, Part Three
In your realm, in yourself, light thoughts
Sent aloft on wisps of woody snow
And cathode-blue glow
Chase a path made of dropped apple and
Almond slivers, spectral lovers and dew
But the things you imagine, contained in glass
Skip along the walls, sniff in corners
Tangle up in the spinning wheel, yet
They give you meaning, they
Taste of sky, of sun and dirty rain
Smell of wind rushing through alien trees
Feel like divinity, like the reason for everything
Canned laughter dances along, electric comfort
For your aging soul
As you make your way through this life, alone
Save for the power of dream
For those who don't know what the hell I'm babbling about
posted by Ms. Lori @ 10:12 AM
2 Comments:
Thanks, darling. I have to warn you, though -- I'm extremely turned on by crying men...
Gawd, Peter, I think you just made *me* swoon. But then, you *always* seem to have that effect on me.
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