Curtains part, in the imaginary theatre where I lay,
motionless,
hovering above the grassy savanna's of nevernever,
conversing with the angels that accompany me,
on this weightless tour of Valhalla,
the smell of rosey cranberry's and cyan fire,
feathers fluttering and rustled,
carried by a secretive winds whisper,
pushed past my peripherals,
the warm touch of an angel,
on my naked shoulder,
I roll over to find,
it is all but forgotten.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
Curtains part, in the imaginary theatre where I lay,
motionless,
hovering above the grassy savanna's of nevernever,
conversing with the angels that accompany me,
on this weightless tour of Valhalla,
the smell of rosey cranberry's and cyan fire,
feathers fluttering and rustled,
carried by a secretive winds whisper,
pushed past my peripherals,
the warm touch of an angel,
on my naked shoulder,
I roll over to find,
it is all but forgotten.
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