Emerald towers raise out of the ground/ and fairies sprites and imps abound
White smoke rises out of my pipe/ angels and demons appear life-like
Wild solemn dances with werewolves under the sun/ chasing prey for miles until the job’s done
Prayers for the dead and the living/ hypocrisy smiles like Thanksgiving
Images, sounds and objects poor facsimiles inadequate replacement/ for a soul that once did breath life into me a radical sensation
Violet and crimson orchid petals litter the blades of grass/ smell the dew in the dell like it’s fading fast
Because sometimes life underwhelms but that doesn’t mean you give up. That you stop fighting for peace. Together, we can do this. Anything in this life that’s worth anything is about people. Yet the toxic ones must be avoided as well. May we radiate loving kindness.
The Folly of Pen 