Saturday, 29 September 2012
The Starry Dream
I stare out of my rounded window, in
Which the moon fits perfectly,
My hand slips to the latch, and clenches
The cold steel. I shiver as it stiffly opens.
I look to the North Star, it winks at me
and I nod in due respect back.
Just to think of all the people
That have been led by this star
over the ages, the wise men,
the crusaders and the scientists.
But a little one catches my eye,
It seems to be glowing, getting closer.
I begin to hear roaring, like the world’s
going to split.
I rush into the porch, and down to
the orchard, where the rain leaves
the ripe fruits damp in the cold air.
The star still aglow but only just, it lies
in the rotten roots of the old oak tree.
I take it back to my room, it feels
like a warm spark of life in my hands,
I clamber out of my window and onto
The roof, stand and proclaim to the
Moon that he has lost his child.
The sky parts with a silvery beam of moon
light, my feel lift and up through the clouds
I ascend, my hair flowing, I feel the
star released from my hands and back to
the sky. The moon sends me back to
my room. The window shuts. The sun creeps in…