Our thoughts are like icicles hanging on the edge of a roof,
Dangling & lingering; waiting to fall endlessly in ones' grasp�
Holding tiny windows engulfed in a glass house,
Like a looking glass in kaleidoscope array�
Wonders & discoveries wait at the unveiling
When removed from the highest brainstorm�
Some expanding in explosions of volcanic craze,
While others crash endlessly in melted delusion�
Our thoughts are like icicles in cold storage,
Craving a winter wonderland,
When sunshine gazes upon & rushes to
Start a new day�
