Moving on

In the blink of an eye
or so it seems
locked in this world
of beautiful dreams
where colors take flight
with the gift of might
we shatter the spell
of heaven and hell.

Beneath the surface
the ideas grow
and bursting forth
the seeds they sow
to dig in deep
to spin the tale
of an alien world
we’ve set to sail
on waters that grow
so deep and dark
and we pray for the sight
of dove or lark,
but find instead the bit of sun
when least expected
our journeys done.

Just some babbling thoughts. Our mushrooms seem happy with this damp (crap) atmosphere of grey days and rain…another day gone and they’ve gone crazy. Perhaps they need their own pot. The little nubs from yesterdays post have now taken control of the pot, crowding each other out, looking like squished umbrellas or little china men straw hats ๐Ÿ™‚

taken last night…they’re growing…



taken this morning….shrooms on steroids ๐Ÿ™‚