April Dreams

 

When dreams may come and lives may lay,

In winters ashes turn to grey.

The dawn of hope and time to share,
the time you have to sit and stare.

Blank sheets and courses none to bare,
the end of the beginning if only part to share.

Through loss and love in tears and trials,
stay and stray for a while.

What dreams may come in rain they blaze
on carpets and in empty trays
in alleys they call with twisted teeth,
and hands gnarled well to keep
Knotting and knitting a half past sorrow
in windowed trees with glistening brooks
they see their ends and never look
upon the image lane so bare
without a spell cast to spare.