Slipping through winter-grass
you falter, pausing
fall softly back
against summer's wall

Here
in the haze of dust and trees
are shadows playing
of antlered men and women with eagle-heads
saying

"Come by
the paths winding through bedroom walls
standing tall, overlook the
gardens that stretch through books
they smell of lemons.

Come, here you may
follow trams winding through sun-slumped cities
follow the paintings of emerald fish
swimming across marble floors

and you can tour the first world countries
and you can stare into the eyes
of passers-by on trains
watch lights like necklaces plastered against rivers
cities forsaken by gods and rains

Here dogs will sing of your virtues
And chariots their tyres will spring
here markets will sell you filigreed
silver
and ******* fit for kings
(complete with crowns and things)

You may stand aloft on slender buildings
watch traffic swirl by your feet
dip your fingers in amethyst rings
dye your hair in deepest indigo
feast on  rose-coloured sweets

While
stepping
through rain-damped streets
dazed by  sulky pressing aquarium
heat

(aided to press on only by
clay cups of spiced tea)

become transparent
dew-lapped
milk soft
mushroom with lacy edges
variations of delicacy

Exeunt
And
Journeying
be mulberry blooded
carnival skinned
roam through our words heeding nothing
but
dreams and the dreams of dreams."

So saying
these shadows
flick along yellow grass.

But remember kind reader, they
never sought these ways alone
They have never been to mourn
at funerals of lovers or friends

they have not heard the sound of death knells.

So listen, maybe you stay for a bit
Then leave their songs for someone else.
--- --- ---