I go into his glance

My husband thinks he is artistic..
While I am a mere nature mystic.
I go into a trance,
When he gives me a glance.
I go so far off, they think I’m autistic.

In truth I’m in communion with trees
With flowers and red leaves and striped bees..
I know I’ve a mind
And you are so kind…
So lend me your heart,if you please.

I am no more autistic than thou.
I live in the real world and how.
I give home to new words
Which fly here like birds.
With humour I now thee endow

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