silent mornings
trains of thought
take me
to far away
fantastical places
and though fantasy
does not always fulfill
my mind likes to drift
to the open gates
of its magical kingdom
and there
to enter
and there
to wander and stroll
and sometimes
to get lost
because reality
can send a heart
staggering
stumbling
bleeding
without mercy
but fantasy can mend
the most barbed-wired fences
and leave them beaming
like brace-clad smiles
on freckled faces
