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A Dream of Music
In the morning, I pick your call:
Small talk, long pause, and brain halt,
Wait! You visited my dream!’ I recall;
‘Juicy! What did we do?’ you retort.
At dawn, we take a short walk.
In an alley, we see a music shop;
From the window watching the whole stock;
At the string section, our eyes stop.
She shows me the violins spot.
But, I am a lover of rock,
To me the violin is a long shot;
No shock, I resort to mock.
She grabs my hand, my mind fraught,
And it stops my nonsense talk,
‘Mockery does come to nought’,
she says, while I silently gawk.
On the phone, my hand gets hot.
Which parts to reveal, I thought.
‘Hello? Where’d you get lost?’
‘Oh! It was nothing, just a dream of music.’
© 2022
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