Dali, why do your hands melt on canvas? <br />A feeling of waste or pure genius. <br />My heart is jumpin, thumpin, thelo blue. <br />Those across the hill look bemused. <br />Like scratches on an old 45 long play. <br />Spinning years of worry and discontent. <br />Days subtle with only honest distress. <br />Many rounds the hands will make on lifes clock. <br />Without the one's I so long to see, it is no fun. <br />A Great Deception of Time.<br /><br />Gulliver Gimble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-great-deception-of-time/
