By Roy D. Follendore III
Copyright © 2006 by RDFollendoreIII
February 12, 2006
within a forest of flowers one night,
I happened upon a most curious sight,
that swam straight up, in the early dawn light.
So young and so thin, with dark hair so sensual
I realized I was dreaming, and felt sex was eventual.
But the thing that was most impressive was not that she was there,
and it was not her eyes or ears or any particular discernable feature.
She was just so relaxed and so naked on the back of her orange striped creature.
But of course time in such dreams, is not the sort of time we shall ever know so well.
We both understood that her existence would be lost in my lost sleeping spell.
So I remembered to remember her as I awoke
and I thought to listen carefully to her thoughts as she spoke;
"Language is certainly an unusual space,
loaded with the charm of fine antique lace.
Producing questions about questions,
sometimes questions about spice
though the questions most important
Are those about life."
To my stiffened awareness and dry taste
to which my dry tongue had invaded,
I still heard her puzzled whispering as she slowly faded...
"Where oh where ,
Oh where Am I,
Straddling these wings
of this poor bumble.
"But where oh where,
Oh where would I me,
If I suddenly changed its name
to a bumbling.
Copyright (c) 2001-2007 RDFollendoreIII All Rights Reserved