Wouldn’t it be worth it
To fly amongst wizards
Scraping elegance
From nearby apple trees
Pressing gladly
Into mirrors of deceit
Running callused fingers
Along loosened hairs
Billowing forgiveness
Between eyes of smoke
Escaping lethargy
That grows stronger
In children of love
Screaming without fear
Naked little babies
Blinded by ignorance
Inbred
There – and lost with madness
Like laughter fading
Into darkest night
Wouldn’t it?
I see wizards
Mingling
With hazardous potions
I see angels
Screaming
To mindless pebbles
And rustling up darkness
Digging deep down inside
Like leather bound bikers
Full of anger
Peddling motionless
Save small nods of the head
I see guard dogs
Chained
To harvesting trees
I see trimmed hedges
Floating
Like lingering strangers
Passing through the darkness
That creeps along
The side of the house
Trampling
Brightly coloured daisies
I see chains
Swinging
Back and forth and stairs
I see widows
Standing in the doorway
Holding a straw broom
Blue and white checkered apron
And a tight bun
Holding in gray
And many years of
Deep isolation
Pull me apart with a thousand broken arrows
Tell me secrets of a far off and lonely maiden
Give me history we’ve never written down
And tear out my soul to feed wizards
That grant me three wishes that open realms
I fly to with all winds at my back
For future walks with thousands of bows
Bending under the pressures of love