“Did you see my Gatorade bottle”

I know it’s there. Her neck I’d throttle.

(Blank look) are you sure? (No boundaries)

My own personal space if you please.

I put the stuff in a bag to take.

No response. It’s hard for me to shake

Why are my prescriptions out? I left

Them in bag for reason. I’m bereft....

Curtains drawn as sun’s heaving as the sultry moon loom.

Heaving in snooze after mushroom weird he’d consume.

Something pecking at window brought him to surreal.

Drawn into vortex his ears flickered to sound’s squeal.

Dreary eyes with begrudging feet peeped through the veil.

Not a thing, but tap near from mirror it did hail.

A fog besmirched and nothing more but wait a rap.

Drawn to it with dread...

Wings pointing up to the cloud.

Exiled to earth with unproud.

Penned by Lewis in a tome.

With beak bent, isle it did roam.

Feathers grey its plumage preened.

Now its world taken by fiend.

Its epitaph’s mockery.

Dodo in soliloquy....

Children giggling in morning sun.

Earbuds joggers do early run.

Trees tremble at wake at cawing crow.

Teeth tittering for what they know.

Windows shutter and curse muttered.

Children huddle and hearts fluttered....

A giant thud on a massive scale

Boy, you’re still heavy as a whale.

Verdant with glow; sign of good health.

Look a little fat; hoarding the wealth.

Wouldn’t hurt to snack on some coal.

Exercise try to drop and roll....

The kittens without milk sigh.

To their masters bid goodbye.

End of day the sunlight die

Waiting at the door to say hi

Ruckus rain beats while house dry

Preening selves for who knows why

Waiting still. Clocks strke. Oh my.

And all they can do is cry...

Sweltering heat. End now in sight.

Girl pushed. Now everything alright.

Bars warm. Door ajar. Hansel gasped.

Hand in hand. No time has elapsed.

A chicken bone. Gum drops. New world.

Woods not as dark. His lips uncurled....

Choir of fluttering snowflakes before dew

“Once the flowers bloom, we’ll be doomed” they rue.

Silver glitter flickering before us

sparkle as stars in heaven so anxious.

They mourn the passing, but rejoice in cry

For in rapture in brisk reprieve they’re spry....

Day one: Harold thought he could fly around

the room

Day two: Harold woke up from deluge on a

broom

Day three: Harold heckles door knob for not

speaking

Footnote: Its voice was a little more than

squeaking...

It’s a bit odd. The man, this stranger in my mist.

Placid smiles. Hello here and there. Is there a twist?

Under the smile. A lion or lamb. I wonder.

He seems nice enough. But did I make a blunder.

Door opens. Stairs creak. Some clatter. Like squirrel there.

All sublime. He has the gestures. But there’s still fear....