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Jun 2014
i dreamt of the carnivals caravan
dreamt of the wild rose who dwelt there
enchanter of strange spells under
the quick moon flying in clouds high up
beyond fingertips reach
enchanter of rich tapestry within moonlight
of compassion's gentlest light
her sweet smiles embraces all

the caravan laid up roadside for the night
and she spread out her blanket
with her hoops she would spin the stars upon
with her hoops she would spin her magic and song
she picked a bead from her woven hair
and set it like a jewel in the center of my world
and with gentlest grin
did ask if i wished to be lost or found
knowing not which to be i let her choose
and wrapping the hoops round her
she spun the song of seasons feast
she wove the tale from fabric of starlight and roses

in the morning light
i awoke to the last carriage of the caravan
cresting distant hill like a the last piece of dream fading
i had been set loose like a strange ship on a strange sea
to find my destiny in the wild western lands
where a dark dusky angel would
take me into her song
where i would find a ship to set sail
for the lost edens tale
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  59/M
(59/M)   
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