Still spins the dream its colours gold, keeps me the night in gentle hold still seems the morrow far away, but twilight turns into the day. As sun comes up the dream is gone… I whisper, ‘please, I’m not yet done, just let me stay in Hypnos’ keep, not morrow’s light bereft of sleep. My love’s too far, but near in dream, a gentler sleep I have not seen.’ As day wears on, the sun is bright and then again does fade the light. Soon will spin dream its colours gold, and keep me night in gentle hold.
Makes me yearn for night so I can dream again. Beautifully written.
Joyce, I loved this. A dreamlike lullaby which echoes throughout eternity. The voice of a soul caught between worlds, longing to remain in an ethereal state. Really amazing! Thank you for that experience. 🙏👍✨