Poetry

Papa’s Field

 

Tonight, I’m a little girl again.
On a reverie to the days my soul was free,
And my feet danced carefree
To the rhythm of the wind;

I find myself in Papa’s field
Chasing sunshine with glee,
Chasing blightsomely
When the sky loses its glow
And heavy downpour threatens my gaiety

Outside my window, tonight,
The sky wears a frown,
Unnerving the zeal of starlights;
The heavens weep sore on my ceiling,
Pouring hard like the waterfalls that cascaded
Down my glands three moonlights back

Tonight, I should be toasting to misery again
Like every other night these downpours
Unlock the ocean in my glands
But my soul is out on that field, chasing sunshine,
Chasing blithesomely, furious winds,
Unperturbed by these depressed heavens.

I breathe in music, and exhale words tastefully woven for your soul's pleasure. When high on sarcasm, I could smash your ribs into fine pieces. But whether on a stage, singing out my heart, on in Solitude, scribbling out mysteries, my greatest aim is to bless humanity with the essence of my being.

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