Click here to hear the poet read his words:

in my dream

in my dream
I walk
with the sun warm on my back
along a deserted soft pebble beach
where the Mediterranean
caresses the small stones
to the music of my soul

when I awake
the snow is gusting
in the bitter north-easterly
I find the kettle
for the warmth I crave

in my dream
papillons float gently
embracing the fragrance
of the fuschia-coloured flowers
whose name I have long forgotten
indifferent to all
except the murmur of the bees
which is music to my soul

when I awake
the clouds rest on the roof-tops
the snowflakes swoop
like demented butterflies
before driving determinedly
westward

in my dream
the aeroplane rises lazily
through the grey thickness
seeking and finding
the only thing
that finally
and abruptly
halts its progress

when I awake
I walk
with the sun warm on my back
along a deserted soft pebble beach
where the Mediterranean
caresses the small stones
to the music of my soul

forever…