Notes About The Poem
What were once my dreams I see fluttering around, forever now out of my reach.
It Stole My Panache
It was what it was …
The fantastic idea,
The thoughts of carefree and joy.
A few small steps is all it would take,
And we’d be living our lives in Savoy.
It did what it did …
This incredible dare,
To the notions of travel and explore.
Inspiring the house to become European,
With a provincial French swinging door.
It took what it took …
Every day of our life,
Devouring every dream that we had.
Leaving us both with nothing at all,
Turning our pride, hope and dreams into bad.
It has what it has …
Our ghostly friend,
Flying with everything that was us through the day.
It’s a bloated ghostly figure, a memory figure,
It ate our dreams like we were its buffet.
It is what it is …
My life void of ideas,
Safe from free thoughts, or joy or from care.
I’m existing once more, alone in my head,
With no flicker or shimmer or flare.
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