Round and around we go.
Limber fingers crunch like leaves to hold on to a dream.
Mend the seams of time and space.
Swirling galaxies of dark onyx matter.
Pressing portraits of bygone people
Golden trumpets echo and collapse
To-and-fro of ancient songs.
Note: This was a collaborative poem. My partner, Lanny and I took one stanza then added on.Can you guess which sentences where mine?