Is it a dream?
What I sense it seems
Like the drifting dream that carries on,
Flying over soft fields of buttercup words
Unable to land as yet, it’s absurd.

Dreams drift in and out and can’t settle,
I can see a wooded area where birds rejoice
Their songs fill my mind, it’s my choice,
I can’t join words to their shrills and whistles
But it is as maybe, it is after all a dream.

Sliding over mountains purple without rage
Their majesty projects an unrealistic stage
Who would want to climb every one of them?
There are those who consider themselves to be brave
They would try and try again, their face to save

To prove a kind of recklessness out far
Where with a grizzly bear they would spar
And blood would be their scant reward
What are they to prove, in this sliding dream?
Clouds tinged with the dying light of the day.

They glide into my gaze escape attention I’d say
I mean who notices them or their colour?
at least there is no argument about their sound 
For there is none, a factor in their favour
I watch clouds as they drift into my hair

I kiss every facet of them, never is there a spare
Space I leave untouched, not this day.
In cities which drain their feelings,
What do people notice in the clouds, they say
“What clouds? I don’t see any, not at my feet”

As they hurry along never lifting an eye upwards.
Clinging on to gossamer thin wisps of droplets
I hunker down wishing my day was longer yet,
No surprises rise up in the cloudy domains
So disappointment will steadily release the reins.

Damp rows of roses dripping perfume into the air
The water from a tall pink tinted waterfall is there
Talking, as it does, to passing animals and birds
Swathes of yellow daffodils giving up their task
As tulips begin to show how to lower their masks

Lines of soldiers waiting to be taken to hell
In a boat made of past warriors bones which tell
What rain droplets will slowly slide along noses
The men watch them as water falls to the ground
Many dozens of frightened souls not a sound
From anyone, no questions are asked 
Only insane Generals barking orders aloud.

Why can’t they walk along paths of roses 
Throw away their weapons and uniforms
Naked amongst the bushes could become the norm
When a man takes his life into his own hands
who doesn’t lend it to another, to those insane for power,

Become part of nature and worship the importance
of real nature’s love that grows without interference.
Seeing the point of view from that of clouds drifting
Where questions of the mystical collide with prayer
Revealed to the world as the brightest lights of all

The mind is churning out messages to one and all
Try to capture one if you can
Hold tight keep it in your hand.
In meadows where grass grows the tallest I am surround
Listening as I do to every natural and sensual sound
 
Dig deep to find the brightest energy escaping around
What satisfaction in this natural place can be found?
Watching as the day starts to dim and shadows abound
Two nude lovers covered in soft red roses 
They grasp the scent as their bodies are joined

The natural act of love they display and enjoy
The warmth of the tongue is the language of love 
The stiffness of the wand is the gift from above
The wetness of the nest is the sign of the climax
The look upon their faces as at last they relax

Tells a story that can be told a thousand times over
A natural and sensual setting for the naked lovers.
Sweet talk rests softly upon their ears smiles are rich
Declarations of love are exchanged there is no hitch.
They join the drifting dream as it carries on

Thoughts they cannot pretend dance in the fires
Which reveal over and over again their deepest desires,
In warm feelings they melt into the natural vibrations
Upon which all in nature seek their satisfactions,
It’s not only flesh that can ask the right questions
 
Truth will stride with trust in the darkest hours,
keep your dreams in your hearts reveal only a little
let the strength of determination keep you from unsettled
dreams you have, those to which you are entitled
those to which you deserve, stay only within circles.

What do you want to be realised, listening to a call
that embraces a background of simmering gentleness,
leaving clues being an advocate for the natural oneness
realising our sensuality is vital to our emotional survival;
sitting upon a dune that cascades sand at every second 

My mind’s eye goes out to sea and collects my memory,
that persuaded my inner self that there is more to see
than what we think we can perceive, dreams are electric 
they are powered up by love and understanding, a trick
that we can all enjoy, every girl and every boy.

Lively are the shadows in the approaching night 
Meaninglessness is the verse they wish to recite
I turn my back on it and wait for the following light
With eyes shut the drifting dream carries on.
With ears pricked all sounds are absorbed upon

An instruction from a thousand previous times
When darkness over took meaning and laughed
As it watched the pain taken on by many lovers
Those who were persuaded that paradise can be theirs
If only they would do as they were told, to be spared

Much worse than what was on offer – such is the evil
That comes readily to some without any real effort
It is as easy as taking a breath, controlling without thought
For the consequences to themselves and to others ensnared
With the lies the drama the sneering, with teeth bared 

They take a dramatic bite from the inner mind and laugh.
Conclusions confusions and intrusions to the bleeding heart
Is not their concern, nor do they even know this little part.
In times when I feel that I want to collapse into small pieces
Drifting dreams are over head it’s their energy that releases

Pictures of how we really look to others – an alien aspect
For our own perceptions, a different opinion I expect
We receive as an honest description grips our hearts,
We cannot deny it nor do we wish to, not any part
Of the drifting dreams that carry on in to our past.

Future drifting carries weight so fine it is nought
Into every crevice of memory, every hidden word 
There is a meaning waiting to be discovered 
A drifting dream carries a thousand souls rejoicing,
The sound is powerful and rejects all false choosing

To resist the natural is like creating a dark situation
Where curses dance freely with fine attention
Could they not be knocked down to size at all
How much effort is needed to make them small 
Insignificant ants that plague each and every heart,

We cast them aside we rehearse we play the part
We look to the heavens at last in every second
As we see the drifting dream that carries on.