I'm still waiting
for Peter Pan
to come take me
away to never land.

I'm still waiting
for my fairy godmother
to come work her magic
and make me beautiful.

I'm still waiting
for my seven dwarves
to come save me
from the hunter.

I'm still waiting
for the big bad wolf
to come huff and puff
and blow the house down.

I'm still waiting
for the white rabbit
to come lead me
down the rabbit hole.

Where is my escape?

I can acomplish anything
in my dreams I forgive you
have slept with one woman
and two older ladies later
surprisingly sweet

charming

you had me for the dessert
after the same aged chest
dune planet was innocent
awry, happy,
subliminal

not occuring

our sensory receptors
need
to be more open

accepting
Nomens as lucid Omens
stars in your eyes and a bright
mass within waves of the mind

germinatrix

sensual aroused awareness
honey. . . your tower seems
like a marvel of a slick bridge
growing inside me

well gourded fortress

silent for many ages,
here, archaic oak doors stand,
imposant, aged by
translucent rains
horsmen, ladies, light
steps, the perfume of ever
crying branches thrown
to the winds of time

even heaven's allured

by this wildest dreams,
oak entering yearns for
a sweet melody,
sound sang by the
horseshoe shaped
~
aum
~~
knock
tock         tock
tomp               tomp
thump               thump
thump               thump


we are rare devotional flowers

growing toward the Sun's love
our curved green bodies are coloured
little skirts, our petal veils listen to every
raindrop's fall. Feel every one
of them heavy light
unbearable
beauty

within awe stricken garden's architecture

I turned away from reality
And entered another world
A world deep within the recesses of my mind
I can now enter another make believe world
Walk 'neath a canopy of autumn leaves
In the company of woodland elves
Watch in wonderment as faeries
Perform their nightly fire fly dance
Why don't you come with me
And see the dragons lair
Reach out a quiet hand, gold and diamonds to ensnare
Or we can visit the dwarven smiths
See their hammer beaten art
Works of spleandour unknown to modern man
In dwarven forges  the art does live
We will gather at the summer fayre
Where sweet harpen music sounds
In that pleasant sunlit glade
Where birds and butterflies abound
Take me not from this wondrous place
Where magic still survives
Where the power of the wizard staff
Helps the good to stay alive
Suddenly a buzzing sound destroys this tranquil scene
I wake to the sound of my alarm
Realize it was just a dream

why do atoms look like galaxies
why do all shapes repeat
why do straight lines carry things
do infinities ends truly meet
what if there are no beginnings
what if the spiral is known
what if the edge of our something
is just meeting itself all alone
where are the wakeful dreamers
where will their questions fall
is this universe boundless
or simply a beautiful wall