Reality is Like Apple Crumble
When reality is like apple crumble;
Beneath the pastry tastes so sweet.
Fields of moons and gods and goddesses
-the blustery lamplight of the street.
Shining dimly where you walk,
Do not be fooled by dancing feet.
Nor, magical, entreating hours going-
-hearts a little shy to meet…beat!
We’re not alone. And soulful songs,
The mildest gestures elevate throngs.
A little pier for you and a garden for me
Is where dreams go, down our streets!
Yours and mine, sweet taste of wine,
Like raindrops on my plants, and mist!
In your vine – divine! That pier,
That sets you free.
Will you sit a while longer and gaze upon me?
My candid breath is real, like the sea,
It exhales explicit words for thee,
Picture this, has many hues, like fireworks…
And subtle cues-
May we wander to where we meet?
May we justly so indeed…
Your thoughts are like your apple tree
Just one or two falls for me!
And I’ll sit there hoping, chiming out;
Sweet designs and the structuring of bees.