Dressed In Easy Colours

 

Move on past the Black Horse, take the steps 
reeling right and left up the green shoulder.
You're in the woods best called "the real world".
Magical of course. Moss-carpeted trees
hollowed to join anon their blown over brethren,
upon whose crazy crumbled limbs you ramble.


In fact this green land that dips and swells
is but sleeping giants and dragons
and God knows what.
Progress across dreaming skulls
lay your head upon the verdant breast
appraising your desires.
Then pursue your chosen way
in the buoyed stride of a determined soul.


It is exactly how I love it to be.
If I were a bird of the highest leaves I'd swoop closer 
repeating evergreen lyrics, as well as a chirp could do.

And laid against silence, the chirp at least, 
clear as a bell will be heard I'm sure.
Pause on its purport; wonder over all of this.

Work In Progress

◄ When The Old Fool Remembers

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message