Written 2014. It’s interesting to look back and see how much my writing has evolved over the years.
She dreams
Of a winding path descending from the door
Of a sweeping tributary of destinies
Of the smouldering ashes, her dreams, on the floor
Of empty endeavours and tries
And she dreams
Of a world that was fresh and new and green
Of the colour fading from crimson to rust
Of what was and what could have been
Of possibilities falling to dust
And she dreams
Of a key to the door of new starts
Of a staircase to unknown lands
Of a whole made anew from the parts
Of her dreams, now alive in her hands
And she dreams