life can be but a dream
sleeping away reality
imagination running away
to enchanted places
were teddy bears
take wing and fly
I tip my hat to all
the pieces of the scribes
scattered here and there
a collaborated pair
I close my eyes to
feel the brail
calligraphy
of the Holy Grail
where flowers grow from
garbage pales
don’t blame me
I feel footsteps
inside of me
just another side of me
call it magnetic vitality
constantly moving
uncage the dove
let it fly into society
infused variety
this is the stuff
that poets are made of
not just made love