The Humble Palace

Frantically waving, white diamonds on the fresh water seas
A five minute slithering drive form the gravel valley of trees
From the modest palace of nostalgia, the smell of memories
Entering the pristine place long before the jingle of the palace keys

Sitting on a seemingly subtle, sideways rocking chair
The wet, crusty mysteries lie deep below
We gaze in wonder at the sheltering monuments on this intrepid land we share
All while the pink, western sky glows

The dusk peacefully dies as infinite eyes wink in the heavens where dusk now lies
Perishing daily to entice concrete imagination from us all
Constant dreams, forbidden schemes, while I blindly stare at the skies
Biweekly answering the humble palace's clarion call