Innocence

A terrible shield.
The peanut cracks easily.
To taste – spear and sword.

Or:

Thought	Air
Your thinking deep is where you sleep. Your window is reflecting this.	The window's a frame to the being of name. When open, the air to the being is fair.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

To Be A Thing

If wonderland
Was just at hand,
To wondrous be
Would fail, you see.