PD ( / )

As Soon As I Get There

I can see through
The soggy afternoon,
Your words inspired
By ancient pines,
Sapping laughter,
And mining ingenuity.

Paper amusement,
Midnight pens,
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.

I am nothing more than a mirage,
A psychedelic relief
Expressed on a napkin,
Then soaked in the marinade
Of memories
Not belonging to me.

Certified dreams,
Moonlit poise,
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.

I’m half-naked,
A bellowing delight
In proof of Emerson’s
Wildest imaginings,
And once again,
Three times as happy.

Documented joy,
Beneath my tree of reality,
Sometimes I pause
To let me in.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Through the soggy afternoon you can see the beauty of words of inspiration. Dreams are satisfied with moonlit poise. Beneath the tree of reality we feel documented joy. An excellent poem rich with imagery and perception is very well penned...10
I'll get there when I get there. Thanks for the astute demonstation of a more evolved state of awareness. I'll let me get there yet.
i wish that i could pause sometimes and let me in.. easier said than done! Great write HBH
Let yourself in, the only eternal reality.