Honey Bunny- Chapter 11
In his Mums’s garden, Honey Bunny saw
More elusive forms, more than vegetables,
He discovered what it’s like to be carefree,
And no worries and things like dubbed sprites,
Where they came to visit him.
They were like little jets, flower fairies,
Dancing flitting above and below the clouds,
And this garden was a stage upon particles,
Performing, such was his world, for a boy,
As if photons and gravitons, played,
Just for him, flitting to and fro.
So there is about in flying, imagining
Around you they spread like rain in a rain forest,
Where toucans and iridescent butterflies flit
And dragonflies sit, then take off and
Go from tree to tree.
And at night bats flit through the gaps
At the top of the walls, acrobats,
They do hairpin turns in the air,
Exiting again without slowing.
At night footmen in grey waistcoats
And dark jackets flit about,
Delivering guest to Mum’s house,
Through the tall, wood-paneled,
Corridors.
They flit away reproduce themselves,
Evolving, and they are translated
Into foreign languages they love,
Eyes flit about, wandering
From roads to and back again.
Sparrows are chirping all around
As they flit among the red and gold,
Leaves of trees in full autumn display,
Every day, birds flit through his world.
But only occasionally they make themselves
Only known to him, in an intimate way,
Where a growing up boy like Honey Bunny,
And his little velvet imaginary friend,
Could sit for hours and read or play.
In a place, they could secretly be,
Enjoying life at home all these days of
Lasting years of summer haze,
Learning, that some of the best things
In life are free.
~ to be continued
Life With Catnip 