12-15-2013, 09:18 PM
Ok...this one is a bit insiped...but I'm just glad i manged to write something.
Coming round to...
IT, is somewhere over there; in a blue haze,
under the cover of a Beach boy’s day;
I survey my island sanctuary.
Some where a computer hums along,
besides the humdrum banality
of an offshore hub of activity.
A recipe is spewed out (a doubtful Delia);
“20cc’s. Fourteen hundred. I love this, but…
…I need some more”
I side slip a page or two of details
to resume my beached existence,
Wouldn’t it be nice…if you three…no four,
would choose if you want to be real or not.
You keep floating from this ship wreak
to shore, crossing over in a blind blink.
The crazy-pave of fade that surrounds
the four flotillas’ of another era clears.
Soothing radio sounds tuned to perfection,
bring the bright-house into sharp focus.
They sit and stand, bathed in light,
all clad in white, but for one in blue;
who smiles when I catch her eye.
Unsure if I should cross over;
having left my retreat, I’m puzzled
on how to reach them.
I seek out feet, that I left
right under a beach or a blanket
…or someplace.
The bedding moves!
It works a treat,
my angels come to meet and greet.
“Some tea and toast?”
I’m mostly coming round to it.
Coming round to...
IT, is somewhere over there; in a blue haze,
under the cover of a Beach boy’s day;
I survey my island sanctuary.
Some where a computer hums along,
besides the humdrum banality
of an offshore hub of activity.
A recipe is spewed out (a doubtful Delia);
“20cc’s. Fourteen hundred. I love this, but…
…I need some more”
I side slip a page or two of details
to resume my beached existence,
Wouldn’t it be nice…if you three…no four,
would choose if you want to be real or not.
You keep floating from this ship wreak
to shore, crossing over in a blind blink.
The crazy-pave of fade that surrounds
the four flotillas’ of another era clears.
Soothing radio sounds tuned to perfection,
bring the bright-house into sharp focus.
They sit and stand, bathed in light,
all clad in white, but for one in blue;
who smiles when I catch her eye.
Unsure if I should cross over;
having left my retreat, I’m puzzled
on how to reach them.
I seek out feet, that I left
right under a beach or a blanket
…or someplace.
The bedding moves!
It works a treat,
my angels come to meet and greet.
“Some tea and toast?”
I’m mostly coming round to it.
