A CHERUB'S FESTIVAL

One glorious Sunday afternoon
I walked through a field of vanilla
so sweet to my senses
as I was humming a heavenly tune.
So I laid beside a flowing brook
and dreamt of angels in the clouds
so peaceful to my soul
as I opened my eyes, to the sky I looked.
A rainbow of colors so bright and gay
appeared all of a sudden up there
so vividly to my eyes
as I stood up and jumped to catch a ray.
I felt as I was in the clouds so high
where a cherub festival was played
so joyful to my mind
as I learned in my dream to fly.

Muddle

Like confetti scattered around
in my mind of confusion
exploiting my most intangible
thoughts about life and romance.
I obliterate any vague chance
of knights pursuing my existence,
trying to express fond endearments
in their quest of convincing me
to surrender my delicate heart.

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