Collectd by A.S. Indira
THE POET ‘S DREAM
On a Poet ‘s lips I slept
Dreaming like a love —-adept
In the sound his breathing kept ;
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses ,
But feeds on the aerial kisses
Of shapes that haunt thought ‘s wilder nesses .
He will watch from dawn to gloom
The lake — reflected sun illume
The yellow bees in the ivy —-bloom ,
Nor heed nor see what things they be —–
But from these creat he can
Froms more real than living Man,
Nurslings of immortality !