Neverland drifts pastorally through
Noonday drams
Near the end of a life,
Night wings wash away the haze,
New dreams come into focus as
North winds blow across the face;
Neither one of us will draw
Nudges from the gods, yet a
Notch crawls up our arms,
Nicking our flesh as markers for the return trip;
Next time we will be wiser,
Never draw ourselves up so high,
Nor shall we ever believe what the
Neighbors tell us;
Napping a travel planner, we
Need to make our way to the
New World, where we both shall
Never be wanted man again;
Now would be a
Nice time for us to go, while the
Nightmares are fading and our
Naked minds are free to wander;
No more running, I will
Never be looking back again,
Nor shall we dream another
Nasty dream again; freedom
June 26, 1997
