In the dark of the witching hour
The moon beamed through her open door
And wafted across the snowy blanket
Falling deep in her chocolate hair.
Beyond her eyes, the world was spinning
Away in her highland castle
She followed the stag through the wood
Resting beside a babbling brook.
The colours filled her heart with warmth
Her eyes sparkled, she was happy
The stag stood bold, strong and tall
Among the rocky grey stones.
She dreamt of peace and harmony
She dreamt of the present and history.
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Sitting on the steps of Flinders
Her dress was the best mess
A shower of sunflowers unexplored
the snug caterpillars float
In little rocky sailing boats.
Yes, she was all alone
Lost in sea of epic emotions.
Up in the hills of Merri Creek
Dancing around my red brick walls
I breathe in the eucalyptus
Listening to urban laughs and tram bells
Wrapped in blankets of holidays past
Dreaming of the day I can leave
Just so I can come home again.
I am the steeple’s rose
Lost in enigmatic love
I want to be that pig in mud
Playing in a sea of straw.
But I inhale the dragon
As the fear burns.
The rose forgets to breathe,
When it’s caught in a breeze.
Morning calls a fine fluty song
Arousing the sky into awake
Gliding into the grassy throngs,
Perching still on the misty lake.
I’m enthralled by their poetry
Enchanted by them musically
Silent, listening quietly.
Alone upon the mountainside
Our hero hid and cowered
Born of Dickensian yuletide
He persona was rather dour.
His sandy hair was stiff as straw
His hat feeble and frail
His feet cemented to the floor
cold on his mountainside jail.
Glaring down into the valley
He chided his creators
Upon a sea of haters.
Alone upon the mountainside
Our hero watched and wondered
Weathered, beaten, and cockeyed
What life had he plundered?
Floating stories like balloons in the sky
Revelling in their strong silver linings.
Imagining the shoes of someone else,
Entwining and binding the quirks of us.
Never be the one that I used to know
Don’t leave me. I can’t let you go.
Do you ever feel like a human fail?
Like you’re missing a piece of the puzzle,
That you were so focused in the long trail
You forgot to give the now some trouble.
I can’t remember when it all started
When did I become these broken doll parts?
How did my life become so uncharted?
What lies inside? Is there even a heart?
I don’t know how to be. What is human?
Getting lost in white petals of Spring,
Conversing in emotional fusion
Bonded by the desires to stand and sing.
Who can tell if we are doing this right
I just do, say, and hope. That is my plight.
Her mind does not have a default setting,
It’s a spag bowl of anarchic thoughts
Rich in flavour and strong in vetting
The myriad of moments her eyes have caught.
Categorising from thumbs up to thumbs down
pushed an acquaintance from friend to foe
Like a cut apple beginning to brown
A shrivelling font, a footnote, in her bio.
Once upon a time in a far off place
Happy never after faded on the page
Standing tall she continued with grace
And exited left off his centre stage.
Her mind took a second to think and grieve
but the sun rose again, now she can breathe.