In the half-real world of this April morning, my

body is fatigued but my mind is

clear. Its blade may be dull from the tease of

sleep, but one does expect that,

doesn't one?


The sun has risen and the sky is

all bright,

a light lemony shade to the east, predominantly a

calming pale blue, though, and the lack of

clouds makes the world seem

so free.

The occasional burst of birdsong penetrates

the muffling blanket of the walls

but save for that my world

is silent.


Gazing 'round, you'd think

there was no trouble anywhere.

No mist obscures my sight - what troubled land

could give a view so plain?

Here beyond the reaches of

our bleak reality,

freedom fills the air with song and

fine natures are



darkness is a dream.

When you wake, my fellow friends,

maybe you won't see

but keep your faith and days will come -

days of joy and peace.

One day we will recreate

this half-reality.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed