A Space To Dream

my head just sank

lying in the well of

my hand

heavy with sleep

as the evening grew


and the night began to 


but leaving

a space to dream

let the train carry me on

to the future


another universe

where colours taste like


with exotic flavours

and warm gentle breezes

hug the emotions

like lush leaves


caressing the soul


yet to encounter 

new worlds

and days have no


and Fate is not a tyrant


By Paolo Michell


About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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