Posted by on Nov 7, 2006 in Poetry | 0 comments

In dreams I spoke,

and the words flowed so achingly sweet and clear,

that angels waited by my side with their soft mouths open,

their terrifying eyes focused most dreadfully on my face.

I woke from the nightmare with a start, alone.

I spoke, talking to myself,

my voice a pale shadow of that remembered brilliance

And though a million words could not suffice to tell even one from my dream,

clumsy, halting, with all my soul laid bare

the words course on

telling tales from heaven and hell and all the strange lands in between

and all the joys that mortals still can share.

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