As I water my rose garden,
I start to drift away.
The monotony of watering can not hold my dreaming mind at bay.
I can almost smell your cigars wafting in the warm summer breeze.
Playfully tickling my hallucinating nose.
As I start to drift away,
the sound of drums and religious chanting fill the air.
I start to look around and see a crowd of entranced priests singing to their Gods.
I imagine that I’m dancing to the beat of the drums.
Following the hypnotic…