6-3-13

Take me again to that gentle sky,
night air ripe with laughter that burst
like an autumn pear-
those threads of color, separated by tufts of
past and present,
aloft and distant and close enough to touch-
lead me to that scent,
that thick aroma, sweet with daydream
and sticky with promise-
there was promise once,
a belief as solid as medieval walls,
high and brave, standing tall
under a fluttering banner beating as loudly
as a happy heart-
hidden wings soar behind my eyes
and carry me to that gentle sky,
aloft and distant and close enough to touch,
the aroma, thick with daydream,
and fertile with promise-
lead me to that scent,
the beat of the happy heart resounding
off of the castle walls like a solemn drum-
lead me to that autumn pear,
so that I can taste its laughter,
sweet and sodden with daydream*

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