The gentle whir of fan blades
The clock tics on steadily while
A sea of blue carries me away
Dreaming is so rare in slumber
Seems waking ones come easier 2 comments
The harsh pump of air brakes
The bus roars on roughly while
A sea of faces blur and shift away
Laughter is so rare in morning
Seems weekend smiles come easier
The stifling heat of ovens
The clock tics on slowly while
A sea of customers take, then walk away
Manners are so rare in asking
Seems grumbling tones come easier 2 comments
The sweet scent of freedom
Tree boughs dance on joyfully while
A sea of blue reflects their play
Sunshine is so rare in evening
Seems darkened skies come easier
The soft glide of grasses
Feet step on lightly while
A sea of cars rush, mad to end the day
Peaceful is so rare in passing
Seems hurried thoughts come easier 2 comments
The warm glow of lamplight
Stones crunch on noisily while
A sea of black stretches forever and a day
Starshine is so rare in night’s cap
Seems emptiness comes easier
The gentle whir of fan blades
The clock tics on steadily while
A sea of blue carries me away
Dreaming is so rare in slumber
Seems waking ones come easier 2 comments
. . .
