lying amongst the wild mustard
on a bed of aromatic yellow
the greenest hill of tiny flowers
a solitary sunflower looks down on me
and smiles

mated hawks circle gracefully curious
to know a man stripped of faded feathers
sucking up the scents of sage and cedar
soaking up the healing sun

i was to work upon the hidden hill
until a spring zephyr whispered
"see how gently the seed laden grass bends with me?"
and the pines whistled me to dozing off

and dreams there transported me to pagan days
where lively dryads bathed and lovely nymphs
with shepherd boys lay in warmed grass
playing by the riverbank was i... indolently
with lyre of tortoise shell

juggling crimson triads
yellow notes streaming out faded blue to green
faded blue dripping out a barking dog
carnelian dewdrops
the axioms of harmony
orange and purple chords
and cartwheeling melodies
echoed in the sylvan glade

i don't know about this last part at all... just having fun. s.c.

anyway it was a lovely day, and i accomplished nothing. hurray!


i hope this brightens someone's day...
it would be great if we all would play
in gardens and on hills
and cooling off from drills
and tiresome duties and high crime
it's high time, for lime
watch out for grime and slime
breastfed tigers in miramar?... sure!
did you know that the pope will be buried
in three coffins?
yes. wood, then zinc, then wood again.
why? so he will decompose more slowly.


and finally... welcome back emily. we missed you.
and hgbrown? well that was simply mystifying.
you know i have a fertile imagination.

knock and the door is opened.

I_ArtMan