Image by Molly Line
Words by Wynn Wheldon
‘A DREAM OF BLOSSOMING AS A LION’
A dream of blossoming as a lion
Vivified stone, greeting each new
season
With aplomb, with divine
resignation
Maybe not the kind of dream we suckle
on
When we dream
with chin sunk on knuckles
But fanciful beyond mere
chucklesome.
One should not steal another’s
reverie
Interloping without care,
sleeplessly
But because there is always the
sky
Which is an infinity of the new
A mess of greys, a glass full of
blue
I am pleased to lease what is not
my due
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