North of Normal Norman
Far beyond the realm of time, is a place neglected.
West of what’s expected, south of what’s accepted.
North of what’s normal, east of what’s formal.
They say to paint my picture grey, but I decided floral.
North of normal Norman was the light that guides the doorman.
Help you see what is opaque, you have to kick the door in.
North of Norman lives a race so jolly and so free.
Breathing air, without a care, smelling roses by the sea.
Saltlandia’s the name, but you can’t find it on the map.
You can arrive within seconds, quick as a finger snap.
It has no edges and no size, a boundless field to tap.
North of normal Norman is a circus; vast, dizzying array.
A kaleidoscope of colors; breathing energy displayed.
An everlasting song that bellows out the notes of love.
A place with trumpets at the gate, descending like a dove.
You can do it without doing it, just being; that’s enough.
You can see it without looking, check; a diamond in the ruff.
Saltlandia, the palace of dreams, can’t stay and can’t depart.
Doors are there to be opened up; each exit, another start.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
