The world span faster for a while,
Whirled round in pallid circles
Of white damask.
Soothed out the rough edges of obscurity
Into circular adventure.

Child-like adventure.
Carefree and all-consuming.
The peeling back of masking leaves
Across the stretching woodland path:

There was a green sheen across sight,
Nothing rose-coloured or scarily clichéd;
A natural sense shrouded in  questions,
Acceptance and endless contemplation.

The disarray of thoughts
Is a monolith to grapple with;
Neverending, irrational and fearful.

But the cloth fitted so tightly, so snugly
To a planed and soft skin,
That each twitch and tense of a muscle
Was a sign of definition
Against the ethereal naiveté

Lay the one true fear
Of what was in store.