I used to dream of velvet skies,
soft to touch and faded blue.
They lit up fast with stars at night
and each and every one I knew.
Distant embers, flickering fireflies
and islands orbiting in floating seas.
I’m looking up with longing eyes
wanting to swim around the textile field
against the tide
and it’s no surprise.
Birds fly until their wings grow weak
and they must come down to sleep.
Show me plenty; show me conquest
and the rise of our sun
until my work on this planet is done.
Smile speciously and comfort me
like a parent to a child would.
I’ll jump from the tightrope
and stumble away.
As summer ends I cinder to break
and dream of white scattered ashes to come
and smile for all the virtue we’ve won.
The mourners arise, not knowing
as I revisit winter walks
and think back to those little talks
my mind would have.
When footsteps would grow heavy and frail
and beneath the bridge
the waters flow calm against the gale
and when I blink I see the
flowers on the harbour rails.
As rushing headlights pass you by
you bow your head, you hide your cries
and dream, dear one, of velvet skies
soft to touch and faded blue.
We’d float up there amongst that tide
but it takes so much more
than you.