In Her Dreams – Jim Bates

By Jim Bates

She rides a painted pony
Over rolling grassland hills.
She walks a shaded woodland path,
And listens to the wind whispering.
Sometimes she stops to breathe the scent
Of a fragrant upland meadow,
Or drinks to quench her thirst
From a rushing mountain stream.
She uses the images in her young mind,
To take her far away,
From the filthy city her parents have taken her
While fleeing the ravages of war.
She travels from there often,
In the quiet of her mind,
And gives her youthful spirit a chance
To grow into something beautiful,
Just like in her dreams.

“I love to try and express how the natural world can have a positive impact on people.” – the poet

Originally posted at ‘the drabble’. For more, please click here:

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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