Tell Me Your Dreams

Tell me your dreams

And I’ll tell you mine

Over a home-cooked meal

and a glass of wine,

Let me listen to you

sing the songs you had composed,

by the warm fireside

on lone, wintry evenings,

and the dreams you had carefully painted

across the cloud above your single bed

on pale, rainy afternoons.

Tell me how love found its way back to you

and you found a way of dreaming of the impossible.

Make me a part of your wildest fantasies today,

and the mistress of your darkest secrets

Take my senses to the farthest corners of your mind

Let me inhale your essence into my soul today

Tell me, tell me all

till your heart tires of it

Your deepest fears, your silent tears, your desires

Bursting into flames of fluttering voices or

Crumbled up into pages of your unwritten poetry.

Tell me, while I lay out the table for you,

cherry-picking my tales of April memories

of how I dream of the same stories every time.

Let me read you today like my favourite book,

that leaves a scent of happiness behind,

while you sing the songs of my dreams

like echoes of winter etched

in the spring of your forgetful mind.