Bourgeois' Bauble

Baubles. Plentiful of such exuberance, our futile playthings: Our idling muses. From our buoyant imaginations useless did we craft our calmer, lesser nuisances. Adults had found these, things, ludicrous, ( lack of logic, form or function, for excuses), but our childish unsophistication refuses to find this alternate gospel humorous.

We galloped on stallions in deserted fields or were they plains of candied grassy lush invigorating our vitally wasteful imaginings? Now, adorned in protective masks and shields, the day breaks: we awaken from our rush, bemoaning the loss of lesser understandings.