The birthing of articulated expression <br />will always find its means of entering <br />into the world outside and beyond <br />the inner recesses of our awareness. <br /> <br />I love the wee and trippy hours of the <br />after midnight when the glass slipper <br />lay glimmering aloof in the moonlight <br />and the weary dreamer sets some <br />ink of thoughts onto the parchment <br />of a woozy head - too early in the day <br />to be about one's inescapable routines <br />too late in the night to do but dream <br /> <br />This is the witching hour in a life <br />where most everything is transfixed <br />in the baffling clarity of cerebration <br />the muses dancing in glad celebration<br /><br />Frederick Kesner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cinderella-dreaming/
