Peacocks and Dragons Here
No china cups, satins, silks or linen.
Nothing extra, no gifts that have been given.
The walls in the same solid blah colors.
Something chosen for a dull head brother.
Give me my couches stacks high and low.
With comfy blankets and neon lights that glow.
Give me paints and stand back in awe.
As I paint my murals with crows that caw.
Peacocks here. Dragons there. Sharp colors everywhere.
Stand back Plebeians as I sandblast the stairs.
I have ideas and I do not mean just a few.
This masterpiece will not be complete ‘til I’m 92.
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