by Richard Milton Grahn
Sleepy feelings erupted on the landscape in her mind. Volcanoes jutted up across wild fields of endless rhyme. Visions from the clouds rained down to fill the empty streams. The lava steamed with fury as her heart began to dream.
The streams turned into rivers and then they overflowed. Passing memories drifted through the valleys of her soul. Trees of truth grew in those valleys just outside her door. A million leaves were scattered deep across her bedroom floor.
She was resting there on pillows of moss, lightly tossed tourge the scent. With windows open, the breeze came in and tickled her until she laughed. A fish walked through the open door and spoke to her of things to come. Running through green fields of clover, she met some dreams as yet unspun.
Down in the valley she danced to the rhythm of another moonlit night. Waltzing through the land of lyrics, she teased the streams with pure delight. Wandering through the lava fields with flowers growing in her hair, she tiptoed through the evening air, picking dreams once planted there.
Across the valley, the rains subside. The rivers wane and the starlight hides. A misty glow comes to steal the night. Sunlight rises and her dreams take flight.
Last updated October 26, 2017