I’m asleep in a tiny jewel;
Happy, and my mind’s eye.
To freedom I’ve never given up.
A rhythm which is rhyme
And castles made of sand
Float wind swept grasses.
So high, so long.
And I am asleep in a tiny jewel;
With windows into-out-of
I crawl and drain sand,
Sifting my widowed beetroot
And surfacing divine;
Flat root / straight cut.