Coloured Dreaming

The coloured pictures in my mind

had faces and places intertwined;

an obituary that went on and on,

ambiguous visions within my song.

The lone lost lag of space and time.

The mirrored dusk that stretched so long.

The mirrored mime serves not well

in contemplating what it tells.

How can the pictures be so real?

How can the pictures be surreal?

How can they be clear as a bell?

Perhaps I’m trapped, just on a wheel.

I thought this way, I thought, I thought.

Until something else got me caught.

I fell into a trap. Crack! Snap! Splat!

I landed in a heap of crap.

Not on a wheel anymore, ‘It’s fraught,’

I thought. But then I saw a gift, giftwrapped.

A way to change my fate with chance.

A way for me to sing and dance.

A vivid scene that marked my mind;

something that reversed the tide.

You smiled. And oh, it moved me so.

For this, or that reason, I don’t know.

I stumbled, colours shining through me,

and bore your emblem of continuity.

You are my thought!

Awake and in slumber.

You have my time.

Our days aren’t numbered.

You have me speared and caught.

You have and will, you are my thought.

From the first time I saw your smile,

sight became thought, images piled.

My coloured pictures whirled around

and mixed homogenously out of bounds.

I was lost for quite a while.

But now I think to see you smile.

My thoughts are coloured and so bright,

but my mind exists in black and white.