I dreamt a poem
It beat in my dream
with purple hue
and smelt of oranges;
had rays of
morning light
falling on warm frost
with a taste of
no, no taste...
It only had an end
the beginning was before
the dream started
and when I awoke
it began...
OK, what did you eat before you went to bed - lol? Dreams tend to be that way - never really make much sense, do they? Lovely color and smell, however, and fun read, David! Linda :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It sounds like a pretty good breakfast to me David, Orange juice, toast, sunshine coming through the window, lovely. Very nice write, I enjoyed it, dreamy for sure. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX