Daydreams

I sit every day in an office, and play

With a ledger that carries my name,

And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey

On a sky that is always the same,

The river winds down by the weed-winding bank

But is sluggish and slow in its ride,

Heading on out to the estuary, carrying

Debris, adrift on the tide.

 

Just about here was the place, where in fear

They once straddled the river in chains,

And called up the hundreds, with helmet and shield

To defend this poor land from the Danes,

And often I peer through the rain and the mist

And the grime on the window without,

Imagining Vikings enmeshed in the chains,

And struggling there, to get out.

 

The office is staffed by grey people in need

Who would like to get home to the wife,

They mutter in tones of their essence and creed

While some of us just want a life,

But Caroline Chambers is not one of these

She’s a flower, sprung out of the weeds,

And I see, as she flits between coffees and teas

She’s a Saxon, her coffee is mead.

 

She pushes the trolley that carries the swords

And the helmets, and buckler’s too,

As she stands by my desk for a chat and a rest

She’s defiant; she’s one of the few.

As she stares out the window, I hear her declare

That she’s not going to put up with this,

The Danish accountant has stolen her chair

And her venom is mouthed with a hiss.

 

‘I’ll poison his coffee, you see if I don’t,’

And her Saxon blood comes to the boil,

I get fleeting visions of lopping his head,

Or perhaps we should boil him in oil?

She wanders away and she hands out the pay

As I ravish her there in my mind,

And she stares up at me from a puddle of tea

Mutters, ‘How could you be so unkind?’

 

The following day I can see the affray

As the Legions march into the town,

The Roman Centurions glitter with gold

With their standards held high, not put down,

And Caroline Chambers, Welsh bonnet and dress

With a lilt in her voice, brings the teas,

She stands by the chariot of Boadicea,

Brings the Legions of Rome to their knees!

 

 I sit every day in an office, and play

With a ledger that carries my name,

And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey

On a sky that is always the same,

But Caroline Chambers has shared in my dreams

Though she has no idea, she’s my wife,

As I live in the daydreams of coloured and grey dreams

And desperately search for a life!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Clayton Bardwell]

Like Caroline, I too am a Saxon. Like you I have spent many an hour in a land far away in a time once forgotten vanquishing dragons and swilling mead served by a pretty miss only too grateful for the protection of my sword and shield.

The mind is a fertile playground. These poems of yours brings my mind to life.

[David Scott]

I'm not sure how I missed this one Dave. How many of us dream so vivid and so desperately? Very relatable! You hide your ability in the ease with wich one can take in and digest your art. Layers of complicity baked into a delite.
Well penned here!
Thanks for sharing this.

[Lena M. P.]

I sincerely liked this. He is but daydreaming of a life outside the windowpane. He glories in the past and it's passions and battles while his life revolves around a suit and an office. He adapts yet he pines. Very well written.

[Mark Anthony Games (Hum..]

I clicked on you at random, saw 151 reviews and thought this guy has friends, Yet you do not need friends with a talent like this, you have that many reviews because you deserve it. What an astonishing piece. One of the worst jobs I ever had was placing empty bottles on a conveyor belt, for 12 hours a day. I made many imaginary words while in that place but never did they feel so vivid as when I read you piece. Astonishing creation, astonishing.

[MOON]

Ah perchance to dream!

[Joel A Doetsch]

Thanks for sharing your daydreams!

[poeticpiers]

Where would we be without our daydreams David.. So many people lead boring lives in soul destroying jobs. Living vicarious lives in soap operas on tv.
Perhaps thats why my careerpath was so varied I could not tolerate boredom So I moved on.I am retired but too busy to get bored but I still daydream.

[Patricia B. Hepler]

From everyday drudgery to historical fantasy, back to everyday life. Your story tells of times long gone, brought to life one more time.. Very enjoyable. !! ~ pat

[w]

From the mundane to the realm of fantasy. We all daydream, yours just seem to take more shape than some. Another wonderful write.

[The Refined Poet]

this, in my opinion, is one of your hidden masterpieces. To take daydreams and turn them into a "play" filled with drama is a feat. well done. I definitely enjoyed it.

[eatmills]

All the charm and wit of a Shakespearean play. Nice work David.