Dreams of a Poet

Dreams of a Poet

Dreams of a Poet










The air is soft as yesteryear upon my

‘cracked and aged face where day is

wearing late and dusk was so fine

The brazen Raven haunts me with his

feathered black inviting wing soaring

on the darkest wind while perched

under darkened moon.


Listen to the wind it whispers to me

half the world is on the wind of change

so if all we know of Heaven is its

inviting gate then all we need not

know is Hell’s departure where the good

bad and the worst meet resigned

beneath the raging darkened skies


Love in the winds shout my love for

thee for the wild ride of the night whilst

I laugh aloud for love of you and

beneath my feet lay Highland heather

abounding from hot housed dew

falling and rejoicing in the stinging

windy gales of thrills.


Leaping from star to star until I see

it’s face the wind in all its opulence

splendor I will sit in my proud

tower in my town awaiting death

While swelling tide tells the wind

to tame or die yet heave them to and

fro like drunken seagulls fly at will

over the blanket of stormy seas


The journey of my soul listens to the

wind of change while I sat up watching

the rising sun and words fall far below

swimming upon the devil’s lake of

stench and Sulphur flame.


I welcome the wind it’s sweet sound

and feel upon my soul let it wisp me

from my place and take me like a

feather floats and glides along the

path to its eventual destination to a

poet’s desk under guided hand to

ink his last day and song of Heaven’s

praise and meet his maker down below.


© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved

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