The Shed of Dreams

 

If I sit on the floor, and look up at the window,

A square of blue sky waiting for my release

Imagine a stone cold floor beneath me,

And the ratty debris is of my only companion

 

And the rain lashes the window like a ship tossed at sea

Expecting the crack and flashes of thunder and lightening

I could steer us from an upturned bicycle

From a skateboard sliding as the waves roll and wallow

 

In the dark looking out at the constellations burning

Waiting for my orbit to roll earth into view

Hot tea breath steaming up the window

 

The door is open, and the enchanted path leads to the giant tree

Through forget-me-nots and unkempt grass

Beyond the Himalayan honeysuckle,

And the flowering currant bush where the wasps make paper lampshades

The door framing wild flowers and foliage

Cropping out fences and markers of suburbia, extending the view forever

 

Yes a shed of dreams,

not just a place for lawnmowers and rusting garden furniture.