Colored prism way, to sanity
Beyond this pain
Would be a green light
-of the kind breezes are made of..
You would find there my faded-jade shawl,
that finds you every time you go out to befriend the lost time,
And stays in its place,
till the fog lifts, and earth feels warm again,
Under your cheek.
Hold on to the purple cup,
I'm sure they'd be filled
By the time you reach there.
The key is, as always, in the hole beneath the Pine.
Sam says the hole refills itself every morn now
With run-off dew from yam leaves spaced
Betwixt the elms and the pine tree's afternoon shadow traced.
So, do remove the lavender lace,
Before reaching out to the place.
When you walk in, pull down the maroon drapes,
And keep on the chandlier, and take with you the golden leaved music globe set near-marianne said the child would be coming tonight, asking for the singing leaves set, much praised.
Lock the room, throw the key away, and sleep. All will be well again. Trust the light.It'll keep you sane.