The gold swirls of medallions Sway as they hang down
In a crashing symphony of sound
As the long legs Of the strange creatures pass by
Stepping like a dream
Moving with thin-limbed silhouettes
Too quickly to be seen
In the sun-red fields, unless close
Away from the protection Of wrought iron elegance
As serenity rises higher than the eye
Creating a melange of the moment
Into an evening glory of awe
Perhaps seraphs of some mindless diversion
Captivating the unknown as they search their way home
[ Surrealism ]
AsIDream 