A Dream of Flying

Yesterday, I was a child,
Lying on my white iron bed.
I dreamed under a comforter;
Flowered pink, light, soft and warm.

Basking in the bright moonlight,
I watch the breeze stir the curtains.
The shadows move and crickets chirp.
The celing fan whirs gently.

My eyes close, I see a field.
Buttercups and crimson clover,
Edged by dark pines, crowned by blue sky.
A cool, brisk breeze is blowing.

I run 'gainst the wind and rise,
Floating above the buttercups.
Like a balloon with a cut string,
I drift over the high treetops.
The earth is a jeweled marble below me.

I wake to a silent house,
The shapes of leaves are now revealed,
Shown by the shyly rising sun.
I lie and watch the shadows go,
My lips curve in a smile as I remember flying.