A head case full of fragile husks
That float around my inner eye
Packed with many possibilities
Some of which I’m prone to try
These pearls may stay until I see
Or disappear just when I do
A fluky meet of something sweet
Leaving me in wistful rue
If I could make a thoughtful net
To capture these impressions
To keep for when I need them most
Welcome groups in neat processions
But like a flavoured dish enjoyed
Not a morsel left to waste
When served up old no longer bold
I like to wrap them ice-encased
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