Poetry's Dream

Where poetry goes when it lays its weary head to rest...

A place of fairies
And wild flowers
And soft morning rain.

Have you been there?
You should go there.
Just mention my name.

At night I walk there
Through the grass,
So soft and so green.
At night I walk there
Through a watercolor,
Subconscious scene.

I am warm and I am safe,
There is nothing amiss.
I’m a witch, I’m a princess,
I am whatever I wish.

I am warm and I am safe,
And like a child’s sweet dreams...
I will stay there all night,
And bathe in gentle moonbeams.

In the morning I drift home,
Through slumber so deep.
In the morning I drift home,
To a body asleep.

A place of fairies
And wild flowers
And soft morning rain.

Have you been there?
You should go there.
Just mention my name.