Treacle Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Treacle
And as dawn breaks
we shift, yawning,
stretching tingly limbs
and as a shy farewell
to the warmth of our cheeks
we watch in awe, and stir
beneath purple sheets,
as treacle finds its hopeful way
down to the secret place
where we met and tasted of
Schlaraffenland, the pineal spot
Dreamtime indeed.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
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5/6/2024 9:16:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
