Fruit is ripe, thick apple slice in the sky
The moonlight shines out, cinnamon twist in the hand
Toad grips and slides about, a sparrow a song
Madness is never far, and never so wrong
Make it make sense when I can
Move your body about, a dance or a jive
Spinning around treacle jumps on the inside
A sliver a sprite, a bungee jump makes it right
Freedom of air through my hair
And when the wind rushes it gasps
A tumble a fall
Trying to make sense of it all
And the moment is ripe
Cherry pips on the tongue
A laughter a song
I used to know what madness was, I was wrong.
Comments
Post a Comment