Graceful figments whisper,
gently trickle down my throat,
and cause my eyes to tear.

The colors blur,
my room aglow,
my hand begins to flicker.

I trundle towards the hallway.
I see my doorway melt.
It makes me think there’s little sense
in keeping others out.

Down the stairs I stumble,
tumble, sprawl upon the floor.
But I am safe from breaking falls,
the tiles are soft as pillows.

In the yard, I start to dance,
The sun makes joyful music.
I do not stop,
though no one else is moving.

The flowers breathe a sweet perfume,
a bequest for careful tending,
Seeing beauty blossoming
is reward enough for me.

Down the street I tap along,
Past children masked as cherubs,
though with less angelic thoughts;
I’m curious, but cannot stop to watch...

Silky shadows swathe the earth;
I lie beneath a tree,
and listen to the trials
and tribulations of a squirrel.

Unable to determine
if my service was requested
I offer my condolences,
And counsel a vacation.

In my path, the plants align
to halt my jumbled drifting,
I chuckle as I step aside,
The trees are deep in slumber

Over knolls, and through the fields,
Past the gates I wander.
But the grass is never browner,
the otherside is mine.

The sprawling sky I gaze upon;
It roars to prove its freedom.
I speculate that rain is cold,
And clouds are rather rude.