Sweeping Willows pass the bay,
floating on a silver tray.
Gently does it as she goes,
drifting off, far away.
Green, green pastures combed by the wind,
all my fears and worries; binned.
This all happened when I was just a boy,
this dream I lived was merely a toy.
All of this is still to come,
or is there something I should have done?
Is any of this still to come,
or have I missed my chance; what's done is done?
Troubadours and tambourines,
I stroll through the orchard of the Tangerine.
The warming air of the summer night,
the sky so clear, the stars so bright.
They all surround me, my friends so close,
just one more bite, just one more dose.
Awakening from a dream so great,
I realise I've caught a hook but found no bait.
What must I do to find my Queen?
I just hope she's better than I've ever seen.
So here it ends, these pages burned,
with all the thoughts that I have churned.
I emptied my head at a somber pace,
but I'm glad I've finally found this place.
By: Michael Carswell