PINK FANTASY
I dream of a place
Where time stands still.
Petals fly from trees.
A pink hue cast on all.
Climb the stairs to the castle,
Where fantasies come to life.
The warm breeze carries music
On swirling rainbows of light.
Pretty maidens dance in circles
Around the courtyard of flowers.
Men become drunk on giggles
And flirty stares cast their way.
Who is the ruler of this paradise?
It is I, the dreamer of dreams.
Autumn Fence, Woodstock, Vermont
A walk down a country road,
not knowing what it may hold.
Leaves crunch loudly beneath my feet,
walking fast is no easy feat.
I need to get home to make dinner,
I’d hoped the walk would make me thinner.
But I need to slow down and breath the air,
as sweet as cotton candy at a fair.
My steps follow the white picket fence,
the other side makes me cold and tense.
The huge dog jumps high in the air,
his eyes white dots in his black hair.
He whimpers and walks closer to me,
his dark eyes as wide as can be.
He lifts a large paw to the gate,
as I slow down my frenzied gait.
I stop in place to pet his head,
I know I have just made my bed.
I will now be home late for dinner,
but the dog knows I’m still the winner.
I have stopped to smell the flowers,
I’m refreshed with super powers.
I race home with new resolve,
no more time puzzles to solve.
Life is beautiful.
Look around.
There’s beauty everywhere.
In every flower.
In each blade of grass.
And in each and every insect.
Too much to take in at a glance.
But no one bothers to notice.
Birds.
Flowers.
Ocean.
Fish.
Clouds.
Sun.
All around us.
See the beauty.
Take in the beauty.
Appreciate the beauty.
Bells to ring in the summer.
Tiny lights to brighten the day.
A fragrance to calm the mighty.
Soothing music for the senses.
OASIS
A more beautiful place cannot be.
It faces the waves of the dark sea.
White sand and quiet beaches galore.
You can’t ask for anything more.
Life is perfect as can be.
Come and frolic with me.
Tourists visit from far and wide.
Oasis is Florida’s pride.
Beware when The Dead descend.
We can no longer pretend
This is a perfect place to be
As The Dead rise up from the sea.
THE DEAD GAME
Promise me rainbows.
Promise me love and kisses.
But don’t forget to
Promise me roses.
All is dark.
Until the moon find us.
Hits us with its spotlight.
Blinds us with its glow.
Reveals us to the night.
All we want is darkness.
Respite from the sun.
Sleep for the weary.
Good night moon.
(Source: p–i–c–t–u–r–e–s)
As I walk slowly in a daze,
Surround me in a purple haze.
I could fall asleep in this tent,
The smell alone is heaven sent.
The scent of lilac is filling my head,
I need to find an appropriate bed.
I will just sit on this bench in the sun
And enjoy the lights of the setting sun.
The fog yawns long and wide.
Flowers have given up the fight.
There is nowhere to hide
From grey’s terminal blight.
One tree withstands the night,
Growing to immense height.
No one else is in sight
to witness its lone fight.
Grey mist ends the day.
Some color I must see.
Hanging in the grey,
Soft puffs of pink for me.
Through a field of flowers.
Pink petals in my hair.
Follow the babbling brook.
At the mountains I stare.
Green grass for carpeting.
Wisps of white clouds float free.
White snow caps the mountains.
Grey rocks all I can see.
Grey surrounds oasis.
A mirage that can’t be.
Flowers lift their faces.
An illusion for me.
