MY

Last week I dreamt of an island of roses,
They were yellow, blue, and white;
I wanted so badly to touch them,
As one would touch the stars at night.

Last month I dreamt of a peaceful brook,
Whose waters are ever clear;
I saw myself bathing therein,
Complete tranquillity was very near.

I have dreamt of many things,
Love, comfort, tenderness, and health;
Of a planet void of war,
A world of benevolence instead of wealth.

I oftentimes dream by day,
I envision people as having no greed;
And how my mind would be at ease,
If the poverty-stricken had no need.

I had never seen such rich colors,
Their depth penetrated into space;
Yea, so bright I thought for a moment,
I would have to turn my face.

But I could not but look on,
As the colors they did shine;
There were eight shades of green,
And of the yellow I saw nine.

Oh, did my heart dance a tune,
When I counted seven shades of blue;
Ten shades of red sparkled with all their glory,
I must admit my eyes sparkled, too!

I saw colors I shall never forget,
I’ll dream about them each time I fall asleep;
I’ll even climb to where they are,
If the edges of my visions are not too steep.

Or would there really be a mess?
Would not joy and peace prevail?
If all females were missing,
Would there not be less hell?

I agree it would take a little time,
And perhaps a great deal of might;
But one solution I have in mind,
Is to tie each safely to a kite....

And soar them far above the clouds,
Where no bird or plane has ever been;
After having bade them farewell,
And count the years to ten.

Or perhaps place them on Pike’s Peak,
But a thought we all must meet;
That even a mountain can take so much,
Of brimstone, fuss, and heat.

Really, would we men be better off,
Away from all the chatter and fuss?
Or would the mountain come tumbling down,
Upon all of us?

“Peace in the Valley,”
For a short time I know;
But soon we would miss them,
And the tears would surely flow.

Dream on, my boy, dream on,
Your dreams will not come true;
For women will always be here,
And you would be the fool.

Upon inquiring about their race,
And asking about their haven of rest;
They confided in me many things,
Their love, happiness, joy, and bliss.

Bigotry, hate, and envy existed not,
Neither mourning, pain, nor despite;
They had a genuine love for each other,
Their emotions did not include dislike.

I was told they knew not apprehension,
That elation supersedes sorrow;
That a day never ends,
There’s no such thing as tomorrow.

Daily chores were done without fatigue,
No hunger nor need of sleep;
Material riches did not interest them,
Concern for one another was very deep.

Sharing was a continuous practice,
No one suffered from distress;
Fellowship was observed among all,
The mind was always at rest.

Civic and social impurities were not known,
Their lives were holy and their voices tender;
Hostility and intolerance were absent,
Gossip no one attempted to engender.

I awoke from my lovely siesta,
Disappointed my world was not real;
Realizing I had dreamt of heaven,
And a dimension pervaded with thrill!

The expedition would take us to no end,
Far beyond modern imagination;
Landing us in an area of strange images,
Among amazement and fascination.

We could swim across man’s moods,
And hike across the desert of sleep;
Climb to the source of his pride,
And descend to his despondency in the deep.

Perhaps a long dormant fiber,
Could be resurrected to life;
And some part of his personality,
Corrected without an instrument or a knife.

We would find the Garden of Love,
As well as the Field of Greed;
We could easily alter his course,
By sowing the proper seed.

We would sow the seed of kindness,
And uproot the plant of hate;
Seeds of love would be broadcast,
A better man we would make.

His lonely nights could be dispelled,
By instilling cells of peace and light;
Avenues of depression would be no more,
Long gone would be his urge to fight.

The Valley of Ignorance would be prevalent,
But no fear of entering its shrine;
For the fiber of enlightenment would be restored,
And darkness left far behind.

But not me!

For on my mind are a million plans,
In my heart are a million cheers;
In my dreams are a million visions,
They will not alter through the years.

My Sun remains upstairs,
High above depression and sorrow;
He’ll keep the clouds steered away,
My sunlit path will not become narrow.

My Sun never comes up,
For He never goes down;
He’s always there when I need Him,
And shines like a newly-build town.

Some of the “tuned in” are high and jolly,
I see others lonely and depressed;
I watch a few challenge without reason,
The poor, dejected, and distressed.

Some are laughing without cause,
Others are sobbing without sorrow;
Still others express feelings of hate,
Not concerned about tomorrow.

The music comes through loud and clear,
I’m listening to the words and melody now;
The lyrics are true but the singer is sad,
But he sings so beautifully, somehow.

Now I hear another form of music,
It’s only a few doors away;
People are laughing and shouting,
The mood is elation, the sounds are gay.

Music of a spiritual kind?
How long will the elation last?
Perhaps a short season only,
For moods are here and then they pass.

I cherish cheerful music when I’m content,
And lonely music when I’m blue;
Perhaps this is the way it must be,
If reality be considered true.

Music is colorful and universal,
Even the angels of glory sing sweetly;
Their harmony is sublime and unsurpassed,
And their tender voices echo so meekly.

Soft music soothes the spirit,
Hard music arouses the passions;
Ballads stimulate the intellect,
There’s no end to the singers’ fashions.