Dreams [2] Poem by Gert Strydom

As dreams go
I am again sitting in the windowsill
of our flat on the fourteenth floor
and below people rush by, small
like crawling ants
going to pleasure spots, restaurants
some to the movies
in the early evening hours.

Music plays from that sound system
build into the wall in the lounge,
turned up so loud, that even
the people below in the street
can hear every sound and word
and it’s alright as in dreams
you cannot disturb the neighbours
living above, beneath you and next door.

The sun dies somewhere over the sea
and twilight has its own romantic innocence
and just now, you will be rushing in
part of the pleasure of living
with a smile like a bright sun
enveloping your face

and there’s a chilled bottle of JC Le Roux champagne
with two glasses next to me
and when I hear the front door open
I pop the cork and pour some in
and the breeze frizzles my short hair
and suddenly I am aware
that you are right there next to me
from the alluring smell of your perfume

and our lips meet in a tender kiss
that is full of bliss
and with shiny eyes you take a glass from me
and its really okay and I know
that we are divorced,
but I am dreaming
and sometimes in reality
love doesn’t fade

and above us the stars are full of magic
as if anything can happen
and we see one moving past
and I give you a passionate kiss

but suddenly sunshine falls on my face
and the new day makes my dream
crumble to naught
and I am back at home
in a city, a thousand miles away from you.

[Reference: Dreams by Lisa Zaran.]