In The Glass

In the glass there holds a story

It starts of in the meadows

Filled with the aroma of flowers

And the ticking of grass

Then come the waters and the lily pads

Twinkling in the blue

Fish dart this way and that

Like tiny heads rippling in the audience

Its your time for the spotlight

Then it slowly fades away

Like walking on gray and white marbles your

Head is silently working blending back

Into the darkness

You reach the tipity top and the heads all turn up

And the clapping begins

And as fast as it came the curtains come down

And the light turns off and it all begins again \

Someday.