Once upon a time
in a land
very far away
a land where
the sun has collapsed just this side of forever
to spill a delicate cloud-work of amber liqueurs
on an already inebriating sky.
The forest reaches out to play with the sea.
A sense of vast longing hangs in the breeze.
And a Jungle Princess languishes in sliver
chains, waiting absolutely alone.
She has become the essence of waiting.
Two moons have passed and she abides.
I wish I could sing a song to comfort her
a softly crooned lullaby might get her to
close those weary eyes and rest safe in
my nightmare proof arms.
Sometimes I think I only dream of her.
There could never be a real princess
languishing in a real jungle.
Outside my window the real sky is filled with
Thor's wrath. The sky has vomited forth
a torrent that threatens to wash away my
truck. But in my true heart?
I have always loved the jungle.
And the Princess is not only real, if
I listen very quietly I can hear her