face of morning

I saw his face
Just listening
Above the doorway
Into a perfect world
Where dimensions know no boundaries
Where Petula Clark still sings her gaiety of song
I have a place of my own to run to
To hide
Small as a snail’s shell
I dive into the cornucopia of song
The tendrils of a spider’s web string me along
So, I never lose my way
In this kaleidoscope of a labyrinth
I love to dream here
In this world all my own
I can play
Distant memories
Are merely passersby on a bus
Waving to me
With giraffes poking their heads out above the clouds
I linger a little too long
And the bells go off
The sirens scream
And I wake up to morning’s drench of sunshine
And I dream again with a new modality of fortune

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