A Dream In The Month Of September... Poem by Uwakwe Uchechkwu

It did came...
Under the boughs of September (the month whom i hold dearest) ,
A dream came to me amid the grave night.
It sprout a rose under my lame pillow
And came peering through the panes of my window,
as it tapped the doors of my mind.
In my dreams, i dreamt of a wedding....
I had a wedding with my lover, poetry.
Yes a wedding it was
And sorry you weren't invited to my dream.
My pen was the priest.
My life, a father to the bride
And my diary, the venue.
The guests, the guests were the open air that did play
their rythm under the night that did come to me
amid the bloom of her fruits;
Those lying untouched by the ravaging hands of time,
Leaving her vineyard for my window.