A dusty planet on the shelf,
A muse contented with herself,
A stallion charging to nowhere,
An oil lamp needing repair--

These four and more were holding fast,
Hanging above the fire’s blast,
Idols of a motive force,
Forever halted in their course.

A breeze traced o’er their lifeless forms,
Stirring dust but not their norms,
Yet their forms were stirring souls,
Igniting hearts bent on their goals.

maybe like the moon – a part of them is hidden away
that’s why they always seem to smile
and when all of theirs is visible,
I crave to see their mythical presence

there is a bear here that I have not mentioned a while as someone copied so he went quiet yet

still here
told him yesterday what happened and

he sat still and constant as always and was pleased

is pleased

there are no moose here nor noise as predicted

if there were
we would also have conversations