I hear the piano playing softly
pulling me from these rutted plains
into a moist green meadow
a vision of a flowing brook down the hill
makes me believe the words of the Prophet:
“Your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.”
yes, I am old, but I see and feel the rising gentle treble notes
lighten my leaded limbs
awaken my spirit
and ****** me into the realms.
It is the touch and glide of the pianist’s fingers
across the ivory skin of the keys
that transports me
in the waning hours of this day.
How sweet it is!

Swinging in the breeze all day,
the sun is shining high,
warm glow upon my face.
Watching as the clouds pass by,
the sky an ocean blue,
a tranquil happy place.

The meadow sweeps out to beyond,
the flowers vibrant rich,
the hills are gentle green.
The birds sing merry songs of joy,
thier tune a cheery sound,
a picture so serene.

The children laugh and play bellow,
they run and jump and dance,
such energetic grace.
They monkey up onto my tree,
I smile as they climb high,
they squint and see my face.

They suddenly begin to scream,
fleeing in abject fear,
from my skeletal smile.
It's lonely swinging here alone,
nobody knows I'm here,  
I wish they'd stayed a while

The people come to cut me down,
my rope is old and frail,
thier blade is sharp and new.
I think I'll stay here anyway,
my spirit is my own.
I rather like the view.

We lay on a field of yellow stubble
Our legs swinging in soft water
Meeting occasionally
Butterflies in lower belly
Oh! The wonders of human touch.

Birds fluttering in the infinite blue
Erratic buzzing of bugs
Calming silence of autumn wind
Suddenly broken by his
"If i could pause time for an eternity
I'd do it right here with you in this moment."

I looked at him
His innocent eyes staring into the wide sky
Perhaps sending out unfeasible wishes
And then he held my gaze
And i realized how futile words were.

golden brown leaves fall delicately from a tree
warm hands pointing at fluffy white clouds
the feeling of back against the grassy ground
fluttering hearts and long, drawn-out whispers
secrets spilled in the dead of night
trust is a dangerous chemical
and I have given you all of it

A daisy in a dragon flower meadow
water turns to lead
the air tastes metallic

A flower among weeds that grow so tall
a flower spreading seeds, hoping that, come fall
another daisy will bloom.

Come, fall, to the dragon flower meadow,
so that what we said when we were alone
will at last, like dust, settle.