11 September 2012
I live to love a world of pure dreams,
Where I eat only strawberries and cream,
And dance between patchwork seams,
A flash of orange and blue zips past,
The signature of a kingfisher,
Calling me forward,
To spend time in miniature,
To doze in a daisy flower,
Cloaked in yellow petals,
High above the nettles,
Singing with the bluebirds,
And writing unwritten words,
Before capturing a dragonfly,
And riding it into a glittering sky,
The ocean of green grass blades will whisper,
As the breeze meanders through,
Raindrops will tap, atap-tap,
Upon a tortoises' back,
He will hide in an emerald home,
As the waterdrop-army attack,
But my tiny feet won't stop -
On and on they roam,
Through a magical meadow,
Now sheltering rainbows,
As they sigh in relief,
Huddled beneath
A dripping, waxy leaf,
Before the sun sinks below,
Within its ancient, fiery glow,
I'll sing again with the birds,
And will until winter's first snow.
Meadow in Miniature • Opuss № I