One day I woke, then fell again
And back to sleep to bed I'd go:
Then travelled me to distant land
Where all your dreams come out to show:
Now rose mine like the sweeping sea
To take me to some foreign plat:
Where people talk in rustly trees
That whisper thoughts with veiling tact:
And eyes I knew no longer look,
Instead though drapes met shadow high:
Where roses speak for why they bloom
And raindrops fall in conscious cry:
And in my dream I see too much;
Mountains high my dreams may reach,
Or taller than the northern sky
Where starlets shine their brightest feat:
But then I woke by summers rime
And sunshine hits my dreamy fall:
A liquid rose - or breathing pine;
Or had I even dreamed at all?