Such a haze is this, when the blanket of dream warms me.
A blankness encumbering thought and awareness.
Suddenly I find myself in my car, next to that taco place.
Situation so familiar, and words spoken with such melodic aptitude.
This music from subtle, expertly crafted lips do I sit and enjoy.

Are I not in this paradise they speak of?

My thoughts fight to stay on the track of the good time at hand.
Whilst they stray, and play with ideas that tease within.
Desires untapped and only partially known, boil over, and spill.
So I smiled, an unthought of signal to the one I adore.
Triggered inquisitions get mumbles and fumbled figuratives, to you transparent.

In paradise, can you not drink as your heart thirsts?

In this scenario, this mirage, my courage does not abort on me.
I am able to confide in my most trusted, with secrets that may be mutual.
I lay on the line that which I hope for in one simple question.
"Will you be mine?" Ringing so elastically, stretching with my joy.
The reply, unheard, such as the sound of a guitar with no strings.

The real paradise can not be reached without a leap of faith.

Such a morose ending to a dream which ponders this, my purpose.
Another day passes, and opportunity seeps through the sieve of time.
Anxiety can no longer thwart my effort, leaving me wondering.
Soon will I dig out the meaning of all of this confusion.
I must simply string my bass of expression and try as I may.

Even if not hastily, I'll arrive at my paradise one day.





- Danny Wharton

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