The Truest Things Poem by Patti Masterman

The Truest Things



It's a three-D world,
Though the dandelions are pure
And the flowers mostly true
(Even if they go unheard.)

It's a secret plane,
Where you can't go back again-
At least to the same place
(Never mind the door is hid.)

It's a boundless key,
Made by instruments on-wing;
Those who wander never find
(It was all just in the mind.)

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