Apr 25, 2014
Who shall look after the window?
remove the soiled cloths,
wipe the shades in high noon,
sit and attend to the misty gloom,
people are walking- scarves, hats talking,
who shall watch the tower before the gate falls?
and spear the gothic monster,
as winter ices over the guards armor,
the steward may vanish into the valley,
where is thou horseman that gallops to tell me?
beyond the horizon, behind the terror dome,
for I listen to the wind as gentle as she calls,
from sea to sea, a black bird's retreat,
a diamond carriage for kings and queens,
but, I am the princess on a pea,
o' magic is a distorted symmetry,
a whimsical step in winding centuries,
like antiques shining in mimicry,
the clock is a ticking enemy,
and the pea open its shell,
and the sleepless fog lifts its veil,
all is swell beneath the waters,
as I walk into this mythical forest