Chili might elicit a burp or a fart
And lightning a blink or a wink
The moonlight might just draw out a gasp
And cause your canoe to sink (but I doubt it).
Perfect days
pass far too quickly
with the sun glimmering
between leaves of green
not even the soft warm breeze
can blow away the hue
of emerald bliss.
But time
presses the hands of the clock
onward, ignoring the euphoria
of this human –
this speck upon the earth
who creates amidst
a perfect day’s inspiration.