The sun’s in my eyes, I fear I’ll go blind.
There’s ice in the attic, and I’m of a mind
To look for a world that’s calmer than calm,
Where even the view from the bathroom is balm;
No astral projections, no blood on the floor,
Sweet music is all that I’m looking for.
How fluid is life, how fleeting, yet sweet!
Now that I’m done with this rhyming, I’m beat!
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #188
More Poetry Pantry #429 at Poets United