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This is the Story of a Cloudy Afternoon

when No-One knew how the music would flow through

This is the story of a cloudy, slightly cloudy missty morning
when childrens' dreams played in corn-eyed rye of crops, eating breakfast from bowls of green lollipops.

This is the story of a flute filled with hopes and of a swan's wings as they feathearly arose.
Of a dragon lost in starry skies & of a million coloured flapping butterflies.

This is the story of a cloudy, slighly sunny Sunday evening
when the dancers fell from feelingthose fools pressing them through;
they stopped and paused, listening to sounds from within and without.

This is strangely thought to change by its loving embrace
however it's a present of peace and time-space.

Alice whispers the truth in your ears and elephants line up to hear,
so your soul starts shedding all fears.
If these men who lived in a hut by the sea
came up singing and waving soft orange flags at me
I would smile & shoot my course on,
in a wake of thin
clear pearly waters

Praying for Peace and Love for your Daughter.