Sandlands and Fish
I twist and move to find the comfort...a cozy place to enter sandlands...
The sandman holds the key no more...
I am no child I've closed that door...
The place exists...I go there often...
to find myself a pool of blue...
The twilight night in sparkle reflected...
off glassy liquid I still see through...
They swim and brush against my hand...
and legs...and stare up with wide eye...
The Sandlands swimfish-come in color...
They change at will when passing bye...
I feel the cool, although I dream,...
of waterous pools and nearby stream...
I wade and walk and think in shapes...
I look about at distant dreamscapes...
I won't return I tell my spirit...
hoping I will listen this time...
but once again...it's back I'm led...
Again to wake up in my bed.
My eyes snap open...I lift my head...
I scan a bit I'm still dream wound...
another day-then sunset shifts...
Then back to Sandland my spirit has found.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.