Oh, to be in my little room where I can dream and sleep, as up the pallet of my walls shadow-brushes creep. Lands and lives and lifetimes appear and dance above my head. Al the angels of heaven sing and carry me to my bed. With sleepy eye, the dreamer watches as night becomes day... a fiery hand... Sign in to see full entry.
UniqueOldGal Poetry and Opinions:
By UniqueOldGal - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in On Writing
About this Blog
Have written since babyhood and am now old and hope to find folks who like my work.
Recent Entries
People
Blogs
Previous: Poetry - New Entries