" it only exists in the body of an infant."

And  when  his  usefulness  had  gone.
They  just  cast  him  aside.
And  on  the  final  downhill.
He  began  to  slide.

Rejected  after  all  his  work.
Visions  now  all  gone.
He  knew  full  well  his  time  was  near.
He  knew  he  had  not  long.

As  an  old  man  disillusioned.
And  weary  from  his  fight.
He  spent  in  sad  remembrance.
His  final  lonely  night.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Dreams are made of chocolate huts
With burgundy windows, cherry **** doors
Sweet icing on cream layered roofs
Almond -walnut -caramel floors

Dreams are made of iris and jasmine 
Jacarandas lined in purple rows
Tree blossoms in clustered cobs
Petals that dance like a ballerina's toes

Dreams are made of fern green forests
Oakwood trees  that cast a spell 
A  gossamer web of magic and charm
The music of clinking coins in a wishing well

Dreams are made of cerulean skies
Contrails of clouds in ivory snow
Violet mystic misty mountains
A  tangerine orb riding a rainbow

Dreams are made of romance laced nights
A golden peach vanilla moon
Venus lighting, igniting,love's fire
The silhouette  of love in rain soaked June

Dreams are made of turquoise seas
Calm waters stroked by gentle waves
Or enticed by the charm of a midsummer night
Waters that heavenly Cynthia craves

Dreams are made of silk and satin
Dappled with reds, greens and blues
But the dreams that I love to dream the most
Are all the dreams made of you

She died, no one asked if I was ok.
I had to pack her stuff up and put it in the garage, I guess they thought that would wipe her existence away and make it seem like she was never here.
She was here though, she touched my life.
A life was lost, no one cares.

tendril scrawl of
notmuchlongernow,
trellis all thoughts of the sea

in vain.
my brain

is not well.
it resembles  
blank page,
dog-eared.

i fell
alongside the angel,
and i'll rise up 

with the simpler
constituents

in that beautiful
wonderful tiny lukewarm
yellowish glow.

my little halo 
in the compost
worn by the glorious 
green bottle fly - lithe, woke, on it.