A Space To Dream

my head just sank

lying in the well of

my hand

heavy with sleep

as the evening grew

chill

and the night began to 

steal

but leaving

a space to dream

let the train carry me on

to the future

or

another universe

where colours taste like

kisses

with exotic flavours

and warm gentle breezes

hug the emotions

like lush leaves

swaying

caressing the soul

wandering

yet to encounter 

new worlds

and days have no

numbers

and Fate is not a tyrant

 

By Paolo Michell

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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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