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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463669" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eustace Tilley In Heaven I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463669" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Insincere, they said, <br>Your heart is forever vanishing, going out of sight<br>returning each night to its violable branch, <br>its enchanted wood. Like a firefly it beckons. Ha! <br>I set my course. It disappears. Appears again<br>somewhere in the well, in a new direction, <br>then again, no longer the fire. Quark<br>dark and cold the altarstone, re-reminding me that I, too, <br>have lingered long on twilight benches in city parks<br>as the moon linked itself to the night, <br>tapping my spats lightly on stone to indicate-what? <br>Interest? Impatience? Let's have a drink, go to bed, <br>and then, perhaps, a good dinner.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463669" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In time I did die and went to heaven-surprise! <br>even a caricature must, you know, go in ruffs, <br>in discreet whiffs, up the nostrils of the gods.<br>There, toeing the mark, was Nature's advocate.<br>Here it is harder to be critical.<br>The butterflies are of a golden hue. Remember butterflies? <br>Here we reflect long days on past glissando<br>while the stars come on<br>and the fire-flower sinks in every human hearth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>