In Taber's Skies . . .

In Taber's skies I sat, surprised,
While thirty mak-ocks carried eyes,
From Palto's point onto Sim's cliff -
Then dropped them on a moss-creamed drift.
In Taber's skies there floated 'round
Purple clouds of trumpet sounds -
And still, beyond was night-time-sun
Which shone it's dark on everyone.
In Taber's skies dropped kitten cries,
Falling wet and turning shy.
In Taber's skies where quill-quotes play
I wish I could forever stay
I'd lose myself from place or time
To then become eternal rhyme.