"By the kelly hillside" | 10

Where's poetry now in this tale?   biding her time
as I bide my time   as the world abides its days
at times my voice   delights in some idle rhyme
at times my eye grows bright   with the pleasurable gaze

of a flower-glimpse   off in a glade   by the kelly hillside
in a picture   shown in a book   in a film that's playing
on the internet   deep in a dream   it might be the still side
of motion   that motions me into the musically swaying

world of wonder   the effulgence of a fresh smile
the pleasantries   of novelties   & amusements
I'm admittedly now   a man in profound exile
from what's commonly deemed reality   my refusement

of conventional notions of living   isn't extreme
I'm moderate in my distrust of this treacherous dream