Somewhat Pastoral (Toys)

The see-saw of happiness and solemnity,

Go hand in hand like an odd couple,

Ferocity of fire still will bellow,

As will the constant wind that forever blows,

Crashing over the shores to create the glass,

From glorious golden sands of the Seas,

Panes in making reflective mirrors or,

Simply the transparent soul of the window,

That allows both fear and hope shine through,

From the sharp of the Shark to the Dove that flew.

The rocking horse of guilt and clarity,

Go foot by foot like a ridiculous dance,

Wide eyed, through the lack of sleep,

Of prospective un-worries that make you weep,

Clearing of slates, so your rest will come,

Horizontal refreshments now differ in peaceful prize,

No more nebulous thoughts are authored here,

However we remind ourselves of the dark journey,

Down a troublesome but rewarding road,

Etching the time line of where we have trod.

The swing obviously swaying back and forth,

Go tongue in cheek with it's interpretations,

Of whether the sway depicts a decent hanging,

Or the hand that is innocently twanging,

A guitar that plays the melodies of time,

Over the beat of a drum, that is the beat of our hearts,

So all those toys that are hidden in chest,

May you play with them judiciously,

For singular or shared recreation be clear,

That there can be no smile without the tear.