Kwoa’s P(h)oetry

Impish little fairies like crisps and yellow boots,
and who could blame them.
Lounging in our realm,
while our almighty vigilance slowly reboots.

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Oh endless yearning, crushed over for so long…
(squeaked sandalwood softly)
Lament all you want, that’s where you belong!
(rapped enamel slyly)
Big mouth but no chest, ushering words that strong.
(confronted wicker quite harshly)
Stay away from this, venting ain’t that wrong.
(soothed tea leaves casually)
I can’t agree more; I’m burning hot.
(shushed the fiery gaz)
Damn flame must be right, time to dance along.
(fiffed copper nervously)
Instant frozen still.
“That’d make a song”!
(observed bored apathy)

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The vast normality engulfs constricted attempts
at emerging and drifting away from destined plans!
A rational wave, to sand our resolve and preempts
yet irrational temper clouds narrow common sense.
And thus miracles surfaced amid uncertainty,
true light guiding over vast seas of normality.

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