Benjamin Day

In my dream I saw gold and green;
It formed a field-
No, a meadow.
Of flowing leaf and rippled sheen.
There is blue as well,
A winding seam that bleeds outwards.
Maybe from petals or a country brook,
I know not.
All that’s certain is its colours-
blended with the others.
Their hues shift and form constant
as I cock my head from side to side.
My mind’s eye stumbles over this curious dream.

Then I realise!
This is no field, no meadow, no summer scene;
But my love’s eyes that I see.
When she smiles they sing,
And when her meadows rain?
It draws me in.
So I recall joyfully,
That in joy and sorrow-
And all emotions in-between,
Her eyes slip from gold to coral,
And to me they seem to gleam.
As I stare at those twin portals,
Of ancient and beautiful wisdom,
I dream to dare-
To fall within them.