For Nothing Comes to Mind
Forgive me, dear friend
for alas I am in a stupor.
And as unicorns gallop passed,
and elvish men seek refugee under my shoes,
and the blood-suckers are away
in the shadows,
I sit and wait.
For something.
For anything
to come to mind.
Forget me, dear son
for I have traveled far with the men
with four feet,
the women with one,
the ones with wings,
and collections of incredulous things.
Yet,
the imagination is what
I have left behind.
For let me, my fuzzy companion,
stroke your side
and cherish your tail.
Let the fire burn,
and the day fall to night,
as we gather
and we wait,
for the ideas to return,
and the fun to begin.
for alas I am in a stupor.
And as unicorns gallop passed,
and elvish men seek refugee under my shoes,
and the blood-suckers are away
in the shadows,
I sit and wait.
For something.
For anything
to come to mind.
Forget me, dear son
for I have traveled far with the men
with four feet,
the women with one,
the ones with wings,
and collections of incredulous things.
Yet,
the imagination is what
I have left behind.
For let me, my fuzzy companion,
stroke your side
and cherish your tail.
Let the fire burn,
and the day fall to night,
as we gather
and we wait,
for the ideas to return,
and the fun to begin.