...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.