Into the Abyss of Whimsy

Beneath the surface where teacups stir the universe,
echoing in half-heard whispers, shadows dance upon
the edges of perception, like a clock without hands,
ticking in reverse amidst the kaleidoscopic haze.

An owl bites the corners of imagination’s canvas,
painting melodies in hues of nonsense, breaking
reality into threadbare strings strummed by
the fingers of forgotten dreams.

Spiral spires reaching towards the porcelain skies,
woven through echoes of laughter cascading in
liquid silver, ebbing, flowing; a river of thoughts
escaped through the prism of sweet oblivion.

A roadmap of perception untethered bobbles
in ephemeral currents creating mindscapes,
between the lines of time, where every moment
is an eternity caught in dreams, waiting to unweave.