PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

By spring heeled Jack's feet I can not sleep,
Opening the window and walking down the steps of the balcony.

Hanging on the line, tall red sheets of the peasant's clothing dance in the wind.

The further I run the less I walk.

I can hear the violen from a music hall across the street.
Peering in I ask, "are you spring heeled Jack's feet?"

In the back balanced against the wall two dancers dressed in black,
The female suspended above the male as he supports the weight of her feet on his shoulders,
Blindfolded.

A room pitch black with white circles eclipse humming of the fade.
How many know of this fade without hearing the element?

And then we see ourselves pass away,

To live in dreams today.