Aqueous Transition

A friend's desk piece reads, "When there's no wind, Row!!" I either do not have an oar or just not the will to toil and persist.

I am diving...meet you at the shore.

Lone Ranger

Wanderlust...I perch to muse and flight to explore. I am lost. I tire. I thirst. I raven to feed my mind.

I'll be home someday soon Ma.

This way up

If only you knew to greet aerial voices...alas! they broadcast inaudible decibels. But the promotional offer these days lets you tune into a comfortable bandwidth, only if you learnt to look up and spot visual clues.

Me? I am good at ocular inspection.

Dark Secrets

I was clad in grays and they channeled a stampede all over like I didn't exist. He colored me rainbow and they thought I was a thunderbolt in the right color scheme. My only baggage from past...kohl-laden eyes. They cradle stories you wouldnt consider blockbusters.

All's well that's slept and forgotten

In the potters hand I slumbered. He blew me a balloon to bounce in. Stepping out, the chill wind and fiery temparaments consumed me down to clinkers. Now I look up an anticipator...to be picked up and caressed back to sleep.