Fleeting flutterbye wandering sky
Tectonian giants soaring by;
Where is the rain you promised;
I wonder whether the days apply
To what albatross see up high.

If I were to shoot him down,
Would you stare with a frown,
And put the pheasant my neck around
To cause some burden with this gown;
I wonder whether I will drown

Beneath the dunes of golden grass
I lay awake - tumbling ash
Littered from a nearby elm,
Rusted petals tumble fast
And on my eyelids, I pay in cash.

For if I do not wake,
From this slumber I do partake
Then I shall pay for my ride
Across the river Styx, I take
A voyage that I wish to never make.

On this slope visions under
Incandescent sunlit wonder
Summer tales of pirate’s plunder
And random thunder reminds us
Of those tectonian giants’ fabrications
Leaving my plane of thought.