|

|
|
| |
Hands of happy, haphazard helplessness, Wild eyes of burning bold sparkle and blue, And feet of fickle footloose fantasy.
Mary the maid makes the miracle music, Manners matter minor with the microphone, And magic makes major movement momentous.
I use these words to wine and dine the guessing senses, Like Carroll, Blake and Cummings.
I use these words to escape the bounds of reality, To fly a tune on a magical carpet.
|
|