Blog Archive

Wednesday 3 August 2011

POEM FROM PENNY SMITH (Wordsouth Group)


 The Play's The Thing

Dream shadows stalk the paths of night
like trespassers. They infiltrate our minds
and tell us stories we would wish to leave
unheard. Our free will bows to honour sleep,
and sleep is quick to gather in the reigns,
driving us towards its chosen goal.
There, we act a part we have not learned,
have not rehearsed, yet we deliver lines
because we find ourselves at centre stage.
We have no script as guide, but improvise
as best we can in every nightmare play.

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