Listen to poem:
Reveries
Like a flower one picks in the morning
That one lays with the fingertips right there
In the hollow of your soft and perfumed hand.
Ocean scent that comes and goes with every wind
Rocks the hull of the boat right there
In the hollow of violent and agitated waves.
Moon, night’s beacon, lights the evening, erases the rain
Plays with me, plays with life right there
In the hollow of the valley with wet grasses.
Beautiful misty island where the sun slips through
On the prints of my steps right there
In the hollow of that dune everything becomes peaceful.
Beautiful moments of memories, sometimes a quest
Just a sensation of joyful strength
The world splashes with its beauties
No more chimera, being oneself without reverie
Right there.
Joël Charvillat
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