A Carefree dream

It ought to be Sunday,
or, a Monday, probably!

Precisely, just another day,
unusual becoming usual.

earth alight on morning rings,
sleepless trees kissing winds,
nightly passage big on wings
to fly, elude, take distant lift,
for carked times are thing of past,
last night saw it last,
for eyes to wake will be far,
seeking dreams honeyed they are!

present times are wailing back,
theories of past echoing aback,
point is little in going back,
its just, dreams end, a drawback.

tho’ the realm stays alike,
eyes now kindle in delight,
hidden flights to usual tale,
redes, mind off mundane,
for did ride a mind carefree,
in a dream maybe.


Image Credit: John Yato