The Tower

–I fell for—

regarded me as

statuesque,

but leery of

Liberty and happiness

(for life)

he left me to

site-seers

–brought on by

ferry men—

and oglers

–who stowed away

(in steerage)

and no Leo DiCaprio–they

…

“oh, Paris

you left me in America!”

fearful of women

with big emotions,

but realizing near last,

the openness

–at temple

allowed for

changing scenery

and views

(thereof)

and as torch I carried was

…ahh…

oversize,

enormous!

it sparked a burning desire

“in you, too”

to see me

(once more, and again)

and even all that distance between us

couldn’t extinguish the flame,

and no containment lines,

withstood it

(ether)

and sow

–what was reap,

and ripe–

for a mission,

he rose

(up)

pulling rooted feet from

la rue,

covering

oceans

–not wide enough

and mountains

–not near enough

to meet up with me

“in’time! Promise you’ll make it on time!”

at a place only

we

know

–an empire

state.

copyrighted

daily prompt: hyperbole

 
I lost the weight

of guilt,
 
 
dropped a ton

of crazy,

jettisoned most

baggage

–and with this better

figurative–

tipped the scales.

the volume of silence

transcribed through my pen

denotes the power of the Muse

 
the third time,

–the time I didn’t get all up on—

I packed light.

Left accessories lyin’ in the Wardrobe, and

booked a different route

Bypassing yellowed brick

–potted with rabbit holes–
 
 
 
 
I mapped a different trail,

by air,

sea,

and rail, skipping

Narnia,

Nana’s house,

and City Green, all,

to venture

completely outside Wonderland county

–witch is bigger than you’d think

considering it’s just a story high–

discovering

Marooned 5

–less the howls—

en route,

and helped a fellow castaway

this third time out,

I burned carbs, instead of leaving

crummy souvenirs,

sent those

“eat me” cakes to the lab,

abandoning ‘hood

(but keeping kicks)

and that alone

helped me fly write

steered me to a different path,

with less pixie dust,

sweeter blood,

and thoroughly

tempered uneven.