I dreamt of our house, which doesn't exist...
I'll light a candle in it and greet the dawn.
I'll feel sad by candlelight. I'll be missed.
I want you'll be near me in our house for long!
I'll walk into the garden, which doesn't exist...
I'll pick white camomiles and make a bunch.
I'll put it on the table. It'll be my feast.
Just fly into my dream! I please you much!
We'll stroll in a forest, which doesn't exist...
I'll mass there an armfull of autumn leaves.
I'll throw them into the sky. They'll be a mist.
And they'll be falling slowly under the breeze.
I dreamt of our house. And maybe is it?
It's somewhere over the hill, green all.
The garden is so very overgrown. I'll revive it.
I'll light the candle for you to come for all.
I love my dreams. Sometimes I even want to go back to my dreams. Sometimes I do. The magic of the night, the magic of dream, the possibility to dream, to be sad, to suffer without barriers and taboos...
Thank you very much for reading this poem! 💖