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Sometimes, I go, wander.
In worlds, of yesterday’s, yonder.
I fly, in the skies, under water.
I swim, in the clouds.
Above, lofty men, proud.
They look down, while we’re given, no quarter.

Sometimes, I retreat.
From the rain, snow, and, sleet.
In the hopes, I’ll be, no longer sodden.
I keep, a kerchief, close by.
For mankind’s, wept eye.
To wipe, the lonely tears, of the downtrodden.

Sometimes, I am, lost.
My compass, in frost.
The coldness in me, makes, a blizzard.
When, charting my course.
Winds rage, to storm force.
Casting fore, like, an Antarctic wizard.

Sometimes, I am, found.
Dulcet. Feeling, so sound.
My mind, dances. On, crotchets, and, quavers.
Underneath, my mind’s feet.
An audible seat.
To sit, and, sample, bold, rhythmical flavours.

Sometimes, I am, weary.
Sullen, sad-eyed, and, teary.
At, the thought, of mankind’s, destruction.
Wondering, where, it went wrong.
A lamentable song.
Plays on, through Compassion’s, abduction.

Sometimes, I am, jolly.
Happy, joyful, in folly.
When, my life, greets, mellifluous smiles.
Time, hearkens, unquickened.
Alive, ever-listened.
As, the worth, is resound, for that, while.

Sometimes, I’m aghast.
At, overcoming, what’s passed.
The stories, make, for bone-chilling, reading.
The graves, left, unmarked.
Make, my gravely, bones, stark.
And, a broken expression, all-revealing.

Sometimes, I do, wish.
For, a time, to flourish.
Where, we yearn, for one another, to grow.
So, the purposes, sown.
And, the wings, that have, flown.
All, can rise, to long-gloried, plateaus.

© poormansdreams

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