Enchanting dawn slips
silently past the night,
and with her rosy lips
scatters her light
as she kisses the world awake.
remembering my dreams
of blue ponies by incandescent streams.
I’ve seen them as I danced among the stars,
but in the light of day,
their world seems much too far away–
I know, if never truly seen, still the ponies are there. . .
prancing, shining with blueish sheen, somewhere.
This is for dVerse, where Jilly asked us to write about “unseen.” Last week, Jane Dougherty reminded me about the blue horses. She knows they’re real, too.