My bed, my world

My bed is the vessel that punctures the most vicious of waves

The mind alive; I am stasis, organless in the cave.

Days and seasons pass in my wake; then a dish of change bakes: The ingredients confused, the chef on a break.

Let’s wassail to health, until the flavour is fused to define my stake.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s