Drinking wine and smelling flowers
Grandpa drifts away from me,
His head is down on his goatee.
He once told me where he goes,
When he's away and in full doze.
Grandpas' nod he did explain,
Are wishes from his other brain.
Where fictions lie, stored in rest
And called upon in dreamers' quest.
It's a world unbound of rules,
Emotional and crowned in jewels.
Hope and longing grow like weed
And sprout and reign from unseen seed.
Sanctions are improbable
And sin I'd say illogical.
It's a warm and restful place
And of hardship there is no trace.
It's a place he does prefer,
Today grows more and more a blur.
This is why his nods increase,
They are his favorite path to peace.
He dines in many ivory towers,
Drinking wine and smelling flowers.