Dream Aloud

These lines of cursive curling into clouds

If I dream, seems I mean to dream aloud

These clouds of grey and rain encased within

Would fall for all to be cleansed of their sin.


I walk the path with banks of grass each side

Opposed to trails and tracks of dreams implied

I look ahead as not to face my fear

Spill a little salt; I was never here.


I watch the words rise up in twists and curls

I dive down deeper still to fish for pearls

I reach high up above to grasp the moon

I sing aloud perhaps to stay in tune.


These trees are sentinels as bride and groom

Stars circle in the sky passing the moon

And here I will stand and here I will stay

And still these things, my life, won’t go my way.


© Kris Blackburn 25/03/13


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