Dream Up A Storm [REVISED]

Again my work station is a Fairy Kingdom;
donning a pink filigree scarf I became Pea
Blossom of ‘Shakespeare’s Midsummer
Night’s Dream’; inspired by the desire to
transcend my life I spread flowers on my
desk, and in front of newly acquired lilac
wings softly shimmering on a cupboard

To my right miniature roses amongst white
decorations - I’m translating al fresco with
no web or email, drinking a mixture of hot
chocolate & coffee to drown my throat’s
malignant instant soup taste; associates
in uproar over toxic fumes of a generator
lighting our sixth floor - which, we were

Told, was once a surgery. Scared a gullible
colleague, told her spirits of the dead keep
moaning - Go Away, Go Away - on seeing
her visibly shaken explain it an absurd joke,
sorry, but can’t help chuckling as I return to
my desk - now, how to spend what’s left of
the day creating new words while sucking

Terms off my thumb or joining workmates
in a melée caused speculating about the
state of our building; yet it’s much better to
play in my Fairy Kingdom, decorating hats
with bunches of flowers, enough of them
to dream up a storm…