Dreams of better days

At break of day we rested, the contest of our wills
declined to wrest the peace away and where
the foreign powers held sway a quiet was in abundance;
a ghostly calm entranced the crowd shrouded
in the shadow dance we left them, proud and unafraid,
we fled the play, we fled the crowd, we dozed in dreams
we read aloud, we dozed in dreams of better days.
When evening came we rallied round and rose again
with rising sound, dancing to the klaxon horn,
our souls reborn. As evening turned to vibrant night
our fancies grew and took to flight, soared and wheeled
in colours bright while music set the stars alight
and flew into a distant view we shared with
few who dared to ride the rising tide. From dizzy heights
we canted down, chanted with the loving crowd, spun
and twirled and pranced around a pyre of
soul desire. The tears were real with salty tang
and voices rang out loud and clear, don’t leave
us here, don’t leave us here!
© I.D. Carswell