Island Illusion

Written by: Stacey Behal

Interconnected insight I see clear,
Intimate in illiteration so pure.
I'm on an illusion island of passion,
Learning lengths limb on the curve as fashion.
Listening as I lean close, lighting as I go,
Mysterious make money; shot far out of a bow.

Mind mingling master mistakes given afar,
Noise never needing to glance at a star.
Nestled numbers nicely set out,
Outstanding oranges; our tree starts to sprout.

Out on the ocean with no special needs,
Perfect poition pulls as the cave man feeds.
Prime parts piece as the destiny can wait,
Nothing matters; not even the date.
Keep the beauty close, for not always near,
As for the rest will come with faith alone; and appear.