Upon arrival, I was sure I’d leave
The jurisdiction of those callous eyes
Which ever stare into my fevered dreams
Could I not tempt
The better half of his evil way,
To shine into another golden vision?
For if I am spent
And could dream no more —
With a serpentine glow
I could beckon ev’ry musing
That ever dissolved me
And live to tell the tale, too.
I would reckon, in my reverie,
That the dream soothes my mind
More than the reality.
Trust is not an issue;
As a tourist seeing through these eyes
I see a dreamer dying—
And knowing the fruitful bounty
Once more — ah! That perennial flower
Growing and glowing forever and again
For I have all I need
On the remotest days and nights
I need not ask for more —
For I have all I need.