It’s a little like reading poetry,
this presumptuous feeling
as I drift surreally
on the arms of the autumn wind
with nothing to restrain my mind
relying fully
on a few gaudy synthetic bubbles
and poetry
to carry me over
a world of dwarfed troubles,
a canopy of roof-tops
of pasture and sea
sprawled in a patch-work quilt
far, far beneath me
It’s so quiet here….
Mo-o-o-o-m!
Where’ my hat?
Jolt!
Bump!
Reality!
Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!