Shifting Gears
Daffodils were bobbing,
I never thought to ask why?
January was the coldest -
dreams don't care
and the yellow trumpets
were almost speaking
and I almost listening.
However, sex got through
this bucolic view,
the daffs turned
into a belly dancer
I once admired in Luxor.
Now I am being scolded
by a demi-god with goat horns
on his curly head. It's not happy
with my expansive outlook.
I need a fifth gear in a dream car,
a vehicle roomy enough
for both a bed of daffodils
and a rather plumb Egyptian lady.
The goat guy can take a hike.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2025
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