As I stroll down a hill

hren2008

As I stroll down a hill,
Familiar faces, young and old,
Lining the muddy roads of
Crispy morning dews,
Hail to me and
Chant ditties to me.

Then I behold a cheerful maid
Walking in a sway
With hues so plain
Yet opaque -
Like a long lost
Deja vu rising afar
From a mystic Oriental pagoda
Where I once knelt down
And prayed
For a shower
Of bliss that would
Never end.

Gaily do I wink at her
And keep pursuing
My way down another hill,
With the horizon unseen still.