...and now for something completely different...
With the fairies
Butter-cream yellow walls of rain,
whistling like flowers
Heather wings hang on silken threads
falling as a rope ladder to the moon
Drifting amidst the ocular cloud-
towers, arms tower, head is a large glass bulb
Planted in the roof-top of the world is
where we dance a mélange of song-boats &
Aquamarine wiser for lakes of folklore
unfold secret microcosms of universe.
I pare apples & dangle the peels in my hair
romantic notions of howling wilde beasts
Shining in Swedish ultra-sway night
remembered because of which I am
Who is hearing wild dogs
barking, it enters me
& if we followed you all night
we’d arrive at day.