Pointless Dreams Poem by Mary Champion

My head lost in the clouds, I drift through life.
My dreams, meanwhile have flown, for they are free,
like soaring, wheeling birds, they've taken wing,
if only I could join my fantasies.
Imagination's power drives them on'
to heights I fear that I shall never reach.
My dreams escape the mind that gave them birth;
oh, would that I could learn what they could teach.
To ride astride an eagle's golden plumes;
to join the gulls that glide above the waves,
to share the rising lark's triumphant song.
this shackled dreamer's dreams will not be slaves.
Borne on the wind they navigate the skies,
spin all around the earth and back again.
My dreams ride on the storm to Shangri-La,
yet somehow, all these fancies are in vain.
For I am here, still rooted to the ground,
my heavy-footed form cannot take flight,
and what sadistic demon is it brings
my dreams to mind, to taunt me every night?