Winged Poetry

You’re just a tiny droplet found —
An infant — dreaming fantasy?
In leaves — asleep, so tight, so sound.
And aye! You are now far away!
Here comes the sun! He is the hound —
That hunts your dreams; this month of May.
A flying saucer will transpire;
Your foolish dream and your desire.

But he will bring you this Eden
Aloft and as you are in tour;
With the discreet and gentle wind.
He’ll drive with you as your chauffeur.
You’re not alone. Please do no pain —
To plague yourself. For more and more
Of you are coming to amass
The sky that’s wide. Oh, endless! Vast!

To build a guild of pure white ground,
Where angels sings a chorus play
To where you are, to where you’re bound
With bliss. Adoring view today.
So with great bonding, you are bound
To stick together and to stay
As kindred of the same, same fire.
You hold the string of Muses’ lyre.

O’ jewel, jewel in the blue
Adorn it and do change it’s hue.
Like chunks of gemstones, will you fall;
Above the trees, above them all.
Pour onto me as if those fans
Would crowd a star. And all at once,
Appease the drunk and cool the soul;
A child will play a piggy roll.

Just how you go to when you drop,
With friends up there that cheers you up.
You hit the ground, you kissed my lips —
By chance — while throwing glances; and —
I too have felt that you need kips.
And so here goes, I raised my hands
You’ve quenched their thirst and you then slips
To leaves, to seas, to soil, to sands.

Dreary Earth! Bliss!
Be satisfied!
Praiseworthy rain!
The people harked!
Nourish, nourish
This dying soul!
O’ come again
To mend our pain.