Tickles of blonde hair across my sight,
Etched by gates and bars; protecting
The dirt and trash of the Georgian moat.
Hideous and harsh, reality tilts to the right.
Resting light on the warming grass; sitting
Like the lovers, and flowers dancing afloat
In the wind; they sway and smile,
But the light leaves and they shiver and cry.

Returning radiance lures the bodies
Like earth worms laid bare does the robin.
Obstructing clouds gloat and float by;
Alternating parents, the grass is feeding.
But hushed are not the tourist bretheren,
With hands clasped round a third eye
They pray to the gods of time that they not forget
The seconds displeasure could not infect.

The bed so earthly soft and proudly soothing
Makes a moment rise in value
While we whisper and hug the light.
But moments are elastic and stretching,
Soon gravity pulls me away with its mighty sinew.
Down from the frills of earth without fight.
And the warmness of blades and flowers
Crushes into cold and hard, stagnant hours.

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