Spilt Dreams Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Spilt Dreams



“Sing to me! ”
you sigh

resting your head
on my lap.

I stroke your hair
as outside

on the Yorkshire Moors

a storm
towers majestically

above our
frail fragile love.

I sing
unevenly inexpertly

all the Rodgers & Hart
songs I can sing

out of tune & brokenly

keep the storm at bay
with nothing but the love

in my voice

your sleeping hair
spilt like dreams

across my lap.

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Dónall Dempsey

Dónall Dempsey

Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.
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