DeviantEire

Fading stars like streetlights Satellite trolleys come alight Left behind in ruffled dreams Of wheeled, yellow regimes In a warming golden meadow Dappled in whites and yellows Where a creature of sure might Sits stretching in the morning light Shadows from dandelion sunrises Drown in emerald-gilded guises Rolling in from the north-south A delta at a river’s mouth Prowl, Mr. Lion, prowl Whose face could never house a scowl Through fields of gleaming dandelions Mirrored in the eyes of a dandy lion