Heart Of The Matter
Dreams Come Lately
Dreams come lately,
In tender most tone,
Satin shutters are opened,
I am not here alone,
There is much in the musing,
The silence makes sense,
The whispers of wisdom,
Seeks demise of pretence,
Though ruptured the realm,
Of the King come to call,
He slips and he slides,
He is breaking his fall,
Recovers his step,
Now he leads,
Now I follow,
There are dreams in the making,
Come to pass,
On the morrow,
To the left and behind,
Stands the demon of doubt,
I hear the feint cries,
“Let me out, let me out”,
Lay the cards on the table,
The King holds the hand,
Satin shutters are open,
I now understand.
Linda Harnett, ©2007
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Dreams Come Lately
Dreams Come Lately
