Lost amid the thunder
my dreams have fled away
just like most nights of lat,
evading being filed
into my slimy brain.
Lost amid roiled dust
they lead me on a chase
flippng me naughty finger
as they scamper about
taunting me in fragments.
Lost amid the bustle
of a Life I once led
they fade now to ashes
leaving no ember's glow
to track them to home by.
Found amid some blown dust
my dreams are recovered
broken, shattered, torn
but still linked back to me
by that psyche's silken cords.
I need tape, maybe glue
to set things back to right,
regain aspirations
to rebuild this soul
once the font for those dreams.
Or maybe, just maybe,
one thing to restore it.
A simple pleasure lost
to being now homeless:
a cold sasparilla.
over ice cream, of course.
13September2013 (Knowing odd months the 13th is safe, even on Fridays) - Dyfedd Rex
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