Daydreams

Daydreams

In the early morning time,

when the air carries a breeze.

I sit down with the Earth

and talk about my dreams.

She whispers her plan

for the beginning of spring,

and of the baby robins

soon to take wing.

The willows sway, their branches sing;

nothing is what it seems.

I close my eyes,

and I see my dreams.

The mists of time part,

making way for phantoms of tomorrow.

Shades of light and peace;

free from any sorrow.

Soon Nature will awake

with the touch of dawn’s first beams.

But Morning, let me stay awhile,

lost in my dreams.