29 May 2010

dream in a dream

There was a dream
A day dream
On a Sunday late morning
While the old sax player
Played lazy jazz
Bare feet feeling the cold of the  old Verandah
And the drummer playing  by the frangipani tree
Flowers red and white
An aim-less heart absorbing
The tunes
Like The fermented barley froth
accepts each bubble rising through the golden the brew

I dreamt of a happier place
Where greener grass grew.

Today  I dream of that day
Play the tunes
In my head
Smell the flowers
In my mind
gazing at the shells
From some unknown beach
in the south
holding the echoes of the  ocean

I dream
Of my  day  dream

PS: May be it is because of  the slow tunes of "bushfire fairytales"  (not Jazz really). Or may be it is because of the smell of a perfect Parippu curry. Or May be I was dying to use this set of words "shells holding the echoe of an ocean in their belly".  Or may be I am just day dreaming of going home.  This was written.

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