A Daniel of a Judge

If I didn't know better I'd say I was half lit when I posted some of this stuff.
No one in their right mind would call me a witch...just look at my spelling.

My brushes call to me,
in between a drowsy dream of earth and sky.
Waiting colours dance,
on gray canvas where I fly.
Time had stopped for me.
Many years had passed me through.
On waking up to the illumine of morn,
imagine my surprise.
In my bed, down below, I heard your cries.
Now time for us to see,
and paint a sparkling portrait of bright possibility.
My brushes call to me-
A spontaneous, special. spectra hue.
Waiting colours dance-
with gesso-gest anew.


Today is but a few days passed the end of August.
The morning is crisp and clean.
I inspire, sagacious for more.
I watch the ground before me.
My eyes are wide with possibilities of seeing new arenas.
This is my sostenudo walk- my Autumn stroll.
In my dream, time stood still.
I raise a palm to shield the brightness of your starry light,
averring Arurora has a twin.
Touche!
My heart touched with gratitude deep within.
Indeed, we shall see that dreams shall come anew.
So let it be written, so let it be true.