Dreamtime
To drink a wine that tastes of orange blossom smell
To sip and dream of groves we've driven through
to gaze thru hoary rime of wintry windows
dreaming of the swaying palms on sunny keys
shiver starry skies in winter's icy winds
The moon so pale with cold is such a tease
adrift in frozen emptiness of silent seas
I close my eyes to see a sunny beach
and hear the steady beat of roaring surf
slipping under sheets of eiderdown
as Morpheus tends the beach umbrella
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2007
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