Is gently waking still the dream with all its colours spun that like a Rainbow, higher still, was reaching for the sun? A thousand colours I did see, dawn of a golden day. Time’s greatest gift, eternity, in colourful array. I’m wide awake, the dream has flown, no colours did remain, the sky now grey with dark’ning clouds, shows just a bow of rain. My waking hours, they seem too long, is Time now standing still? I want my friend, the Night, to come, for dream again, I will.
Your beautiful writing of inspiration brought to mind the following inspiration. Hope against hope to bring us over the rainbow, where the dreams of the future reality easily take over the dreams of our current reality.
Over the Rainbow. Where Dreams come True. Carried by the blackbirds in the sky.
Wow, Joyce. This touched my heart finding this today. Such beautiful poetry.