Listening to every heart
The Secret Dream
Come hither to my secret place, a land of sleeping dreams
a hazy nether-land of childhoodís spirited schemes,
a land of daily conquests, a place of stories come true,
come here and holiday with me, just you and me, we two.
What is it now that you would wish to want to be
a maiden beautiful, or visit your childhood climbing tree?
Shhh, donít ever tell, but my most beloved dream
is when Iím dancing, for I am not then what I seem.
Now here I am an age where beauty is just showing
slender and nimble, soft and fragrantly glowing
dressed in soft hues I am rainbowís best friend
softly the gossamer moves as I shift and bend,
my arms raised high, I begin a slow swirl
the diaphanous skirt along my legs rise and curl
arms curled in my reverie to the musical beat I sway;
in this fashion, I dance-sleep the quiet darkness away.
Bending, moving, swaying, Iím a ballerinaís quest
for Iíve all the right strides, Iím floating my best,
a dip, bend, a sway, my skirts drift in the dreamís wind
never tiring, Iím living for the dance, and then again
through the darkening misty shadows comes the man
heíll dance with me, gliding, softly guiding my hand
and for a danceís eternity we are one in the dreamís wind
never tiring, weíre living for the dance, and then again
among all the mystic colors and hues of my dream
amidst all the musical tones the fading begins
and slowly my skirts and feet come to a halting stop
the music now fades to gone, my arms to my sides drop.
This part of the dream is the leaving time, I look behind
where the slippers are, the colorful hued dress of mine,
but little sadness, with knowing smile of 90 years, I know there
is another night before me, as Iím lifted into my gliding chair.
9 September, 1999
Words will always express our feelings true. ~~~ KRJ
Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow