Rain tattoo on the Velux overhead
Is no incentive to leave the bed
Save the dream and clear the head …

The body needs a good shake
To get rid of the nightly ache
Wash, then breakfast to make.

Today: ginger, honey and porridge
With fresh full milk, no need to forage
Then a brisk walk up on the ridge.

Tack with the flow like any ship
Shepherds crook is within my grip
Constant thought, no gossip.

My logic is the Source I know
Surely the best and only way to go
Cobwebs fly as the winds all blow.

What was that Dream I wonder?
Autumn leaves fly and flounder
Like Dreams fly away, plundered.

Plucked from the waking mind
But, there’s a constancy left behind
The thought of a different kind.

The Lord Logos now fills my mind
This is the best incentive I can find
To live life to the best I can define.

Every thought and act and dream
Conjures images of ‘cats and cream’
Where are we without this Stream?

The Stream, like no water ever was
Divine Grace wrapped like the Cos
Unfolds as I’m aware of the Logos.

So, what of the dream that came
Was it just another mental game
A message by another name?

Or was it the warning warned about
That it sure was coming hereabouts
Or imagination, finding its way out?

Briskly walking and staring into space
Here comes the day dream pace by pace
Then the cock pheasant flies in my face.

I must have disturbed the old bird’s cover
As I hear from the shore the cry of the plover
I see overhead my careful kestrel windhover.

Back to earth with a shiver, and tear of joy
Such odd artefacts some watchers employ
When all my flying friends are there to enjoy.

To me this is what true dreams are made of
Coming to me without sending raven or dove
My friends in the sky remain free and above.

It’s impossible to hold every single dream
Tantalising snatches like drips of fresh cream
Whet my appetite, to hold onto the next fleme.
© David Tenneson –2017


About David

Devonian writer
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