Upon the Moor

Upon The Moor I dreamed I'd written a moonlit sonnet As I danced across the misty moor. Lavender heather grew dense upon it, Serving as a carpet on a bare floor. Then a lark on wing, passed over my head. That's when I began to fervently pray, "God, if I am still asleep in my bed, Please do not allow me to wake this day. My life is burdened with sorrow and pain. Only by dreams am I ever set free. I don't mind having to sleep in the rain, For I know You always watch over me." I woke bathed in dew, lying on heather. On my breast there rested a lark's feather.