Little-man-traveller

Rose is her name--
I’d rather call her Petal.
Because thy flower spread it’s wings
To and fro planting those last memories!
I slew a creature made of silk like fantasies--
A Dress you thought you wore
how I laughed when thee said
”Doth my tail look big in this”!
I saw the perfect-bloomed flower—
A droplet of blood mixed into thy complexion
compels the awe into the breathing
So much like thee too far over the edge!
Therefore I hummed to the humming bird
such an affordable flight--
She sat in lust over “Vocal love”
I’d only gone and hummed the mating song!

Underneath the mushroom tops
the moon could be no more than flashlights--
Where did I propose to thee?
Underneath that dew waterfall
the insects hissed their joy!
What if the wilderness we roamed
Were no more than a garden!
I’ve seen the giant’s footsteps--
And heard the booming thundered voice!
Perhaps the clouds we look upon--
Were no more than giants cigarette smoke
Would explain our large supply of falling tobacco
maybe it wasn’t sent by god after all!
I hope the stars I’ve looked upon a lifetime--
weren’t anything but what they were meant to be
Old fantasies still remind me of the silly times--
we all as kids believed in taller humans.

Honey from the tallest of trees--
The ant passage was the best route
a signpost outside read “Beware of the Squirrel”
we always found the looted rooms.
The bumblebee sat its noble guard--
And always caught the sight of us
upon the river-rafted-leaf we escaped--
Down the water-roots to the underground burrowed cave.
Darkness has a different sense of blind--
Sometimes I thought of the owl that ate my father
is but a symbol of the fear I held inside--
And when again dawn came the owl breathed no more.
A mighty looking rodent of a rabbit--
awe after the sigh did follow
we suppose the nature’d beast be--
nothing more than a vegetarian.

Superior in it’s size maybe--
But tamer in the heart doth beat
the fairest creature of the land--
Onward toward home we rode it’s back!
Daylight sores the eyes like onions bring tears--
We’d found the lost city of the gardens patch!
Brave be we to come this far wilt be famous--
Food that fed the kings of old we are now royalty!
A husband without a child is wounding on the heart--
But royalty doth surely no work more time to try!
Onto the backs of carrots onwards towards Victory--
The sun is bowing its head behind the hills!
Good night sweet sun—Good night--
The rustle of feathers in the distance
The softest creature known to the sky--
’Tis the owl back to claim the remainder!

So soon to be royalty guess the truth remains--
Death cometh to us all too soon begin the prayer!
Soft hollowed flutes of twigs from wood--
I wait the calling of thou vocal wind towards us
To Angels I hath seen the sense of madness--
Take the garden patch as thy own and spare me!
Saviour—cometh down from the heavens--
Before the owl doth tear away the shadow left behind!
A wounded heart—preys on the prey--
I’ve heard the hunter became the hunter’d
’Tis on the taste of death we soar to survive--
In my hands the spear of hope doth raise high!
The owl swoops but misses—the feather now mine--
A prize I say—a prize of bravery come down and giveth me rest!
The owl swoops again—it’s claw hath scooped a lucky grasp--
My spear upon its heart we rest upon our deathbeds both victorious.