Tired dreams,

have passed me by,

I've watched them fall from the waterfall,

pass down the stream,

lifeless and exhausted,

these dreams.

Estranged friends,

follow closely behind,

just winding along the stream,

accompanied by the tired dreams.

As a new day is begun,

they arrive at the estuary,

and float into the sea,

only the memories remain,

in our hearts,

kept safe,

in a tattered box.

Then the new dreams have begun,

they swim to us on the waves,

the mysteries of an ocean,

the magic of the moon,

controlling the tides that come our way.

New friends,

new adventures,

doors opening,

new dreams to fill our hearts

and start all over again.

Tired dreams,

we don't need them.

 

 

Only just written 29th May 2013

Oil painting by dad, j.m.swarbrick, it's called the estuary, partially inspired this verse,thanks dad x