Goblets

A bit of nibbles.
The "plip" of Bubble popping,
Whittling a drift
Within the winds.
A simpleness, with crickets
And the frogs all frogging;
Flopping all about,
Between the stilling mists.
And a tall-feeling
Calling,
To bound the boundless
Up and out in flitting string;
To miss the big event
All caught in caterwauling
And carousals,
And espousing where you've been.
Serenade me with your
Sweetness,
In the grace of goblets
We've mistakenly paraded all about,
While falling from our opal origins;
Arousing all our ornaments
And oratories.
Pouring out our present met lament
In search of just the story
We were sent with;
Meant with;
Just to be a tree leaf's
Pension.
Just to see.
To breathe.

And mention.