By B.H.

“How shall I wonder not, and ask?
The answers you hide – to unmask”
She looked suspicious –– I had to tell her–––
About the mystery –– ironical and artificial
“If you could spill your dreams out of yourself”
Now she gleams, or it merely seems
A fickle stillness surrounds the place
Of an inside out imagination –– a craze
But no word can tell ––the reason
A walk with solitude? A ride to past?
I asked myself, but–– I told her about
A jolly parrot with no frown––
But a folly smile on its face
It could sing the serenades of love
Far better than the angels of heaven above
A coven – prettiest choir singers
The feelings of love – an innocent felon
Roads ––that sailed and I just stood still
An owl that amused them with its musings
About the giggles of sparrows, the chirps of girls
And about a coward scarecrow and evil crows
How is it living a life –?
A good – in a bad – a life in fog
I told her – pointing at a flossy cloud
“It looks like us” before the sea view
She listens, smiles and kisses my cheek
Quicksilver imaginations! –
Sigh. It was mere a dream.