My Mind is my chariot
That takes me to many places
My Thoughts are the horses
That gallop or slow their paces
My Dreams are the pathway
That leads me to beloved faces
That throughout my experience
Both past and present graces
My Memory through sweet or sad
From time to time just races
My Heart serves as the detective
That files within many cases
Too difficult for a mortal to judge
Yet it still reserves many spaces
For future pleasures and joys
That now are just glimmers and traces
Of arranging events in a better light
Like choosing which blooms for which vases
And though Life has become a spectator sport
I still choose to round all the bases
And if I were playing poker
I'd expect to draw all the Aces.
