A little rain falling; a dream.

I’m sitting alone listening

to a storm howling outside the window,

my head drops,

I begin to dream:

with guitar in hand I step out

in the glaring lights;

the crowd roars,

I smile and wave,

strumming a  strong chord,

with the rhythm and notes

poring out  over the amplifiers,

I sing a song,

and as the guitar break comes,

I begin to recite a poem

that I made up as I go:

you know that the tree died,

and strangely they said

they had looked after it well,

you see that is how we treat

our environment;

poring poisons,

smog,

plastic and lots more into it,

and wondering why it is dying,

now wake up all you young ones

start singing, dancing and loving,

lets heal the earth,

stop hatred and war,

so come on, come on,

lets change the world,

and all the people were chanting

and dancing and clapping along with me,

and I awoke frozen,

listening to the sounds of the falling rains.