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The Lotus' Song
© 07-17-24, Olan L. Smith
Suffice our dreams frame character as we die.
What hurried past is incomplete, and why?
The wind blows in the rushes and blocks the lotus' song,
Meanwhile, the cat's in the nip, and angels smoke a bong.
A dreamer sees this when night turns to dawn
While Rover plays with a mole in his master's lawn.
A dream is just a gist as time is at its stand;
It knows the closing chapter is at hand.
YOU ARE READING
Bird's Eye
PoetryA new collection of poems written by Olan L. Smith starting 2023; all right's reserved.
