For i know they are never
Coming true still
I do...dream

the sun burns the grass and the ferns,
they melt under a bright sky,
roughening, like the tongue of a cat,
the grass with its brown sandpapers.


the flowers pray for me and my
watering can, on a dirt track
the water splashes and the earth
drinks deep, the trees shiver
at the thought of water, their
branches sway, this is to dance -
leaves with patterns scattering -
leafy shade and pools of bright


drawn out of the air a drawbridge
of breeze raising its portcullis and
suddenly the heat is bearable,
shadows and sun like a patchwork


we wait for summer, tender-eyed,
smouldering in the heat, the trees
like colossal statues of bronze
stretching branches beneath the canopy
of a green sea in a dream spun
from ebony.


i kiss you, grazed by this
orient sun, my heart
seeking yours, my
legs longing for your legs,
my limbs threading
with yours
while summer
sings of her forgotten
  Jul 5 beth stclair
It was a boardwalk on the stars it seemed.. On the otherside of the universe.. I got to walk it.. It was raining light here and there.. The air smelled of star jasmine..  I could see your eyes every now and again as a raindrop of light would pass by them..  They were a deep dreamy brown that seem to swirl away all of my worries.. I was in your dream.. Somehow I made it here.. Or maybe you summoned me here somehow..  I wonder what I look like to you in the fallen light rain? Do my eyes shine as bright as yours?
In her dream...
beth stclair Jun 20
how horny does harry kane look when he scores for england.
  Jun 11 beth stclair
In the night blooms the flowers..
Unseen by sunlight..
Shadows dance in the pale moonlight..
Blooming pedal's dusk towers..

In the chamber on the sea mountain side..
Flame burns sky blue...
Wooden floor kissed with golden sand..
The dreamers arrive soon..

The flower colors in the moonlight..
Mixed in with glowing silver rays..
Can't tell if they are blue or maybe a dark gray..
Soon the sun will award true color from the dying night..

The dreamers gather in the chamber by the sea..
They form a lighthouse of imaginations and dreams..
For the mind eye to open and see..
That the stars above are really part of you and me...
I saw a light house in a dream.. Created by other dreamers like me..
Pissed off is the imagination;
And the words
Crack the asphalt of the port
Like poppies, for the wind is gone;
And the sea must now sing alone
To the sunken city -
(C) LazharBouazzi, 4 June, 2018
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