Flights of Fancy
In my youth I dreamt that
I could soar above the clouds
O’er the trees and o’er
The green hills of our sleepy town
I’d glide up to heaven
Not aware of the gathering crowds
As eagle wings magically appear
All covered with down
In my youth I rhymed words
And waxed poetic phrases
To tell tales of make-believe
From the recesses of my mind
But life obscures vision and
My imaginary world vanishes
No tales of romance to narrate,
It is a fate most unkind
At the nadir of my wretched life,
An angel appears to me
With pen in hand, an encouraging word,
And yes, papyrus too
Behold! I can write verses again
Of the new worlds I can see
Heroes and maidens, sunshine,
Sunsets, the most breath-taking view
If I can write poetry again,
Will then my flights of fancy
Return to me so I can soar
Once more to the skies so blue?
02-27-2013
© Vic A Evora
(2013)
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