Saturday, July 28

sometimes

Sometimes its the end of the world
and sometimes its not

Sometimes you remember
What you thought you forgot

Sometimes the ogres
Are waiting to pounce
Sometimes the fairies
Grant you an ounce

Sometimes the treasure
Is a doorbell away
Sometimes the pleasure
Is here to stay

Sometimes the cracks
are gaping wide
Sometimes the fire
Is swept aside

and yet the leaves just smoulder
for every rock and boulder
you carry on your shoulder

as the weight just pulls you under
and all you hear is thunder
and the forest splits asunder
and the trees can't help but wonder

why you walked this way at all

perhaps it was to burn, laugh, play
with colours of the fall?