Indoor weather

The soothsayer has his runes
 Cast them at the darkest moon
The fortune teller has the orb, its secrets cloud
 Coins of silver for fortunes coming good and bad
The stars that will fortell our lives
Astrology its truth our birthday dates and times

But all that granny had was tea
In porcelain and earthenware repositeries
Cups and scaucers chipped and worn
The brew would steep till it was poured
A steaming brew with strenght to stain the teeth
When drunk, just left a reminance of leaves
To devine and see what lies
The tannin, and the sweet dribbles dried
For there were all of lifes outlines
Of droughts and bad financial climes
When wind of change would shake your faith
The earthquake dog, rattles all the cups and plates
 Patterns of lifes storms revieled
The forcast its Occluded front detailed
The life experience all given free
 "weather it was truth or just mybe"
 
 

I must be dreaming,
I hear the rain outside my windows,
I can hear my kids screaming,
Enjoying the river as the water flows.

I hear a stream in the other room,
Cascades are falling through the walls,
It all seems so surreal so I assume,
The rivers runs rapidly through the halls.

So in between dream and fantasy,
I expect my bed to slowly drift me away,
Hearing splashing somewhere in reality,
But in this fond illusion I want to stay.

I can hear the water falling, rushing,
The trees are dancing in the cool breeze,
The pond seems clear calling, gushing,
“Come on in and take a dip if you please”.

Then I hear my kids shouting, yelling,
Interrupting my fleeing dream but then,
There’s panic in their voices, blaring,
They’ve overflowed the toilet yet again.