9

No Ceiling

  Fly with me to the land of the stars
  Past the moon, the sun and Mars.
  Sit along the Milky Way, the constellation is ours.
  The magic opens the hall, your eyes; your mind is null of wars.
  In patterns march the characters, expressions, some with scars.
  Thoughts are free now, you've bent the bars.
  Stay with us within until you must go, but leave some in the stars.

  Richard C. Hayner
  1970 ©

© 2001 Middle Sea Studios - Richard C. Hayner - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED