Cotton candy, moth balls, crystalline, silver whiteness make-believe.
Trees whispering and walking in a land of fantasy and reality.
Summer and winter, love and hate:
Often they seem the same to me.
Storms of emotions, like candyfloss
So sweet, yet so dangerous.
Wind, frozen in time, captured in mid flight.
Angry at being caught, turned to the hard crystal stillness of ice.
In your spun sugar dreams,
Stray liquorice sticks in bloom fade into venerability.
Growing against a colorless grain
The orchard bears nought but grey-shrouded pain.
Sometimes dreams are woven
not in the sky, but on the ground.
Ready to receive,
from the generous earth,
to the generous earth.
Under springtime Sun
Earth is the bride.