Harmony, no.2

It’s two in the morning,

it’s time to play,

my thoughts are miles away,

on a bend in the river

thinking of some disorder,

and even of you my dear,

but the words arrive

at my finger tips,

and the poem begins to grow,

though I have no idea yet as to

what it is about, but tiredness

enfolds me, and the images

tumble onto the pageΒ sustaining me,

as the poem grows into

a thought about how great

it would be to see happiness

grow across the lands,

with all living in harmony,

and trees and plants slowly

taking their rightful place

and the air becoming sweeter,

deserts slowly receding,

people finding new ways,

harmony singing through

the world of my dreams,

as I get ready to snuggle up in bed.

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4 thoughts on “Harmony, no.2

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