The world stood still,
our time we had to ****
lives dropped years
like hot wax on chandeliers
splattering our day to day
with matters of silver gray
of red, browns, greens and gold;
the sort of rainbow nobody ever told.
Not in fairytales nor magazines,
hot topics nor fresh cuisines
But in the eyes of trees
and suckle sweet honey bees
Day to day in the wood
where people wish they could
live out their troublesome ages--
freed from their pen and paper cages.
As if a god stopped each pedal drop
each bird's chirp and bunny hop
to be heard on trumpets high
in a day to day look at the glorious sky
a soft second when all is still
birds, babes, and a fawn, frozen at will
lifeless yet has utmost potential
delved in a growth exponential
