
Maybe I'm dreaming of your ocean eyes
Reflected in the emerald skies
But I don't know
Where summer always goes
It seems to fly out the window with the bees
Your hair's a lovely shade of sunset gold
Which burns the hands which try to hold
What a glow
Yet no one seems to know
This kind of light it always gives off heat
There's gold somewhere in here
I hold that truth so dear
Maybe at the rainbow's end
With my banjo strumming friend
He sings a lovely song
Which inspires me to move along
And dream
Where's the reason in these useless rhymes
Is lack of one such a crime?
There I go
Hitting myself on the nose
That questions how it often goes with me
About the Creator
alan pierce
Working on creative writing sword-and-sorcery stories, as well as essays on social change
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