Late April Dream (Part 2)

Dreams are elusive, and you can never keep them.

They are all about the virus times,

Now we are living in the times of the virus.

The news is all about the virus,

And life has changed for many.

 

I have in my head All Fly Away, by Jefferson Starship.

A favourite song of mine.

We can all fly away in our dreams,

As the window is open and I can hear the birds,

I thought it might be 7.15 or 7.30am when I started to wake,

but I know it was 8.30am when I started to write,

because my wife asked me,

and I had to look at my watch when I went to the toilet.

Then I came back to bed and laid on my side.

It started to get uncomfortable to write while lying down,

So I sat up finally at the top of my page where I said ‘Dreams are elusive’.

The moment you sit up they’re gone,

But this one’s still here.

It’s still working, even though I am now physically sat up and writing.

My wife gently snores next to me.

The new little dog still lies patiently on the bottom of the bed with his head up,

Waiting for signs of movement and wakefulness.

I wonder what he makes of my writing?

What is all of this scratching in a notebook,

while lying down and then sitting up?

But I did not put my glasses on yet.

I did not give in to the waking world.

 

I tried to write my poem,

But as I wrote it I knew I was going forward from my dream into new territory,

And not back down the paths of the dream, which I still haven’t recorded.

Now what was Boris doing?

What was he saying?

What did he have me saying?

Was it some call to the Dunkirk Spirit?

 

I can’t go back,

I can only go forward.

The dream was never very real.

I was somewhere else,

Away from home,

But my window was open,

And I could hear the birds.

I am sure I was somewhere else.

Somewhere more exciting,

but I can’t remember now,

can’t remember the dream,

or the words that were spoken in my head,

before I started writing it.

All I can remember is that everything rhymed!

 

I am signing off.

It’s now nearly ten past nine,

my wife is waking and I am going to read her my poem that I have just written.