. . . crisp autumn sounds of gold
chime and dance
as slanting sun rays . . .
Jester
stop! send green fantasy explode
where is can’t she be gard-en
words repeat again the name
I stomp rocks fly waves
and glass melting tigers
my name was Johnny remember
ruling worlds disappear
Alice saw me there
thinking funny years retreat
and stars streaking ‘cross her hair
Copyright 2005 njTare
