Saturday, November 10, 2012

Untitled

I do all types of poetic dances
in my living room,
Pedaling rhythmic steps to the music,
Peeking at the attentive stars,
I assume: you shall be aware of my moondrift.
The heartbeats of my wishes
drums a song upon the eye balls
of your creative mind,
A butterfly rises from your hand
with wings that fancy the room.