Treasure Island

Peter Russell

(1921-2003 / Bristol)

Night The Ninth

My real world
Is in your dream

I step into your mind
Out of my Sunken Cathedral

I breathe air once again
There are perfumes
Music and wild flowers
And live birds in the trees
Singing A Midsummer Night's Dream

My lungs are full of sodden incense
I am damp and cold

But in your mind
There is a big fire,
And a red phoenix in it
Spreading his wings

I shall remember what I saw
In your real world
Which was my dream

And I shall try to be grateful

I'd give you all your heart's desire
But it would only make you unhappy


Note: (I have never seen Manuela again) - P.R.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 20, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem


Every night for nine nights Manuela appeared to me in a dream, and each night she spoke a poem to me. I had never seen her before and I have no idea who she was. - P.R.

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