A red lucky moving hand Japanese cat
Looks insistently at a Westerner with a hat
The street barbecue floats in fat
The teachers gave a talk to a random Matt
A handsome Korean on an Alvar Aalto chair sat
Another daydreaming session in a café
With my pet the rainbow bat
The letters of a faded, burnt postcard
Rotate with fervor in a mental hospital ward
Imaginary friends eat a bowlful of lard
The emperor’s castle collapsed and killed the bard
The foundations of this fantasy story are hard
Covered in milk the lamp seems a tart
I am stuck in a corner; I am Alice in love with a leopard
At the counter full of cakes there is a clown
The odd collection of teaspoons fell down
The construction worker, the nurse, the guard are all sound
But the sofas, the fluorescent walls, the plants are bound
Are chained to my notebook while they drown
In the room there is a single crown
The queen lost, the plot was written by my hound.
Everyone from everywhere 
I love it❤️
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I am glad you do!
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I have only just started following you, but what you write is beautiful! I have nominated you in a Liebster Award:
https://hammygirlblog.wordpress.com/2018/01/11/the-liebster-award-nomination/
I would really love to read your reply x
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Hi Fragilistic, I have just read your poem three times because it is simply enthralling, quite seriously. Poetry really is the closest thing to the beating of a heart here — words that pulse to the eyes of the poet and let *us* see through the lenses that capture each image. I’ve now read it a fourth time and imagined the shutter of a camera at the end of each line. Marvelous.
❤
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I am really really happy you felt moved by my poem and that you could imagine the world I tried to create. Come back for more! I live to create and hopefully in the years to come to inspire.
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The images are so vivid and blend so coherently. You have such instinct for opening the camera lens, letting the reader imagine as the shutter closes and opens. The final lines are, to follow your rhyme — profound:
The construction worker, the nurse, the guard are all sound
But the sofas, the fluorescent walls, the plants are bound
Are chained to my notebook while they drown
In the room there is a single crown
The queen lost, the plot was written by my hound.
🙂
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