Walking along 
listening to the birdsong 
dancing on the wind  
a seagull flew by 
look to the right 
tree in the sky 
makes me feel alright.

Spin the wheel, 
the sandman steals 
sometimes 
the leaves deceive, 
blinded by the green 
the ocean dreams 
three little trees 
one full seed,
black and blue 
inbetween the green 
a reddened hue. 

Eleven points in tact, 
the lights, the stars 
they come too fast.  
I see a door 
on the ocean floor 
I slip beneath 
and drown no more.

The left is a circle,
a chance to dance 
the middle straight 
to the light, the right
either way, black or grey, 
drizzle dismay, stagnant clay.  

Piper shows the way.

©JMCole