Even with my eyes open the other world invades,
distracting me from what is real. A daydream takes over:
A cornflower field, and red poppies, buttercups,
or an imagined house, with lots of space,
old and mysterious. Kittens, pups, a face. A face.
To sail away I think a sailing ship,
leaving port, losing the cobwebs of the mind.
She goes steady in the wind, the sea is blue,
I wonder what she leaves behind.
And approving smiles show up. A hand on a shoulder.
Sometimes I daydream about you, how it would be,
and all meets up, the best of useless dwellings
is when you sail towards me while I wait
in the meadow near that house,
the best yet to come. With my eyes open to see.