the farthest that I have been,
consecrating the nu voir
and music of my new mien.
Whither, wherefore and what more
is this cacophony of dreams,
to walk the mystic mile
under thy gentle wings.
As I follow thy trail
across the star lit screen,
I sat for once to wonder
is this the all that’s been.
Art thou but just a vision
a glamour of shine and sheen,
that toys and coyly beckons
but never to touch nor claim.
