I’m on a magical ferris-wheel.
I never want to get off.
The views here are breath-taking, enchanting
Imagination’s brush painting new landscapes over hills and seas,
chapters flooded in darkness, sprinkles of tinkling laughter, and far-away places –
not for you, or me
The light bends, rainbow chinks
A prism of my own making
I’m still on a magical ferris wheel, but…..
I want to get off now.
The hills are parched and muddy-brown,
Like sun-bleached grass; waiting for inspiration’s drop
When will it arrive? Only the Gods of Narration know
Until then, I relax, sit back
And surrender to the quiet ride
The landscape will leak back soon