Imagine This Seattle

Grant me pancakes trolleys Rocket-fueled swingsets Marmalade mountains with high-crusting cream. Seattle strings its polite passers Among misting choirs of clouds, So begging I go for dixie cups of chili Steaming block by block, as a harsh July Has every fourth day blue. I wish for weather with wiggling hues of pinks, rouge, and mauve, Landscaped with blazeberries, lazer lemons, and fudge. Fudge, fudge, for all with small children, Young puppies, and dwarfed camels, So we can ride slow, strong, and merry in bliss-hoofed patterns. My final wish of this corrugated ten, Is to speak of such long tales, once rested and spent Along the shores of our Lord, at the edge of these dreams.