When I look through to the stars,
occasionally
in the the daytime
and mostly
in my spare-time;

sometimes they giggle at me
and riddle
at me. Riddling me in,
teasing my skin.

It tingles
now and then,
ideals wriggle away;
but when
I put my things up there,
no-one can touch them
and no-one can rush them.

I know they are mine,
I feel close to them
and sit to laugh with them,
now and then.