I long for a dream,
within a dream
that clears the sight
of you.

I am asleep and asleep
I feel nothing
But the craddle of your arms
like orange snakes
thrashing fears around…

Black and white tale
Shall that be…

Every night a little dream
in the dead of sleep
in the depth of you…
………………………………..
Words spatter lights
in pools.
Do not squander their yellow glare
To guard you through winter…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art –  Ivan Volkov, Tatiana Larina’s Dream from Pushkin’s ‘Eugene Onegin’, 1891.

This is an old poem from 2015.