I acquire the sensational psychology in me
Which reliably wraps my mind and me

Up in a blissful blanket of yarn –
Hand-knitted by Creativity herself.

Heater-like –
The blanket bathes

Us in a glow
Of what light feels like.

My mind and I breathe united as
An inseparable couple.

Friend-like –
We gleefully greet each other

Beneath the spotlight of Freedom’s moon.
Poems and thoughts are the stars.

And like Freedom’s moon
Solitude nearly reaches a curious finger

All the way down to us.
Freedom faithfully follows her

With luscious
Loyalty like a leader.

Sensuality wears her evening perfume
On Winter’s barren brown deck

Like Femininity –
But she does not quite copy her.

Rightfully wears

The passionate ever-moving flame
Of a smile

In the still fireplace –
Almost silent but not.

Amy Cavanaugh