Jaw dropping was the sight that came before the tide.
On a river that flows with a brush of dandelions right beside.
Marching down from the distance in a long and winding path.
A curious beholder emerging from a well shrouded shaft.
Resting his feet while holding a scripture on his lap.

And with a tree that he found in the open field.
Beneath its shadows and the shade it wields.
Reading a lovely story while he holds its scroll.
Off he went and his imaginative mind goes for a stroll.
Jacked into the realm of novel and the world of fiction.
Entangled to a different space and reality of conviction.
Nested  as a bird in a perfect ly written conclusion.
And was deeply submerged in an endless fictional delusion.

Blown by every word in structure.
Admiring the rythmic strings of a vocabulary that seemed different in its own feature.
Yearning to attain the same prowess and skill.
Oddly thinking of words within the thoughts that makes him still.
Trapped in his mentality is a knowledge still unscratched.
A wee bit more of hidden capacity that is still unhatched