Where I’ll end up I don’t know
No specific destination
On the trail of ideation
Feeding some new thought sensation
...
Sleep, now, sweet child
Your dreams are near
You are my forever love
My caress will lay to rest your fears
...
It must be nice to follow fall
Rest, my babies, rest
To blanch the landscape, trees and all
Rest, my babies, rest
...
But for the Child
Who must cross the raging sea
Of trial and terror and tribulation
...
Well why not be free
As soon as I see
The atrocity
Starts inside of me
...
I see something odd
A snapshot that I caught
Odd they’d pay a penny
For a picture of my thought
...
Query me of woe and worry
Of sodden grief and silent fury
Sadly beyond medicinal cure
...
Jodie, is that you?
I thought you’d left me for good.
It’s been a long time
Since you were in the neighborhood
...
Don’t be afraid
Let the wind touch your face
And be free
Be patient
...
I can’t say what’s happened
To my dancing feet
Worth treasures beyond measure
They’ve gone tired and worn
...
Imagination
Where I’ll end up I don’t know
No specific destination
On the trail of ideation
Feeding some new thought sensation
Build the thought up as I go
Sometimes it’s infatuation
Others it’s a computation
Always deals in fascination
Factor in to make it flow
Formed from basic information
Simple in its transformation
Thoughtful in its graduation
Seems so fast but moves so slow
Some may say it’s contemplation
I say it’s emancipation
Mostly it’s procrastination
Doesn’t matter - yes or no
I live for my imagination
Kimberley, thanks for dropping by and you're most welcome to stay. Fondly, Jerry