The Giant's Dream Jars
In the centre of the silence, a giant fills the space
He carries but a trumpet and a battered old suitcase
I watched with bated breath, the street was dimly lit
He puts the case upon the ground but holds on to his trumpet
His monumental hands unscrew a tiny little jar
The contents seemed to dance and swirl and glitter like the stars
He tips the foggy matter into his blowing device
Then pokes it through a window, I don't dare blink my eyes
The dream that he has captured, collected, then released
Now floating in the mind of the reciever as she sleeps
The giant, big and friendly, satisfied his job complete
Picks up his battered suitcase and moves on to the next street
*I took inspiration from Roald Dahl's 'The BFG' book.
19th Jan 2012
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