How many dreams have I dreamed
Of other worlds, and other wives
Of other laughs and other cries
Of others' terrifying screams?
How many men did I meet
Over there, where I had
Visions sad and glad
And often flew with my feet?
Blessed imagination saves
From the mundane day
From the box that we live in
From our daytime graves.
Like a child at play
We are only dreaming.

Sean Hunt November 2015