The Prince sleeps

As Shakespeare said: ‘what dreams may come’?

Lying spreadeagled under the moon

no tension there but an occasional moan,

Morning light will come too soon.

Resting on his laurels now

The leaves of which will flavour

His dream meals of tomorrow, 

And the joys he has yet to savour.

And his throne will hide his tired eyes

Imperiously drained,

He dreams not yet of how far he’ll rise,

The future cannot be explained

So slumber on, little prince, 

With carefree snores and whines

What dreams may come, no one can tell,

But tonight your dreams are your design.

Advertisements

Author: dermhurl

musician, writer, teacher

1 thought on “The Prince sleeps”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s