Sweet Dreams
Who held the arrow
That shot the stars to the sky?
Did they strike in the dark
Or did a light shine their way?
Did they cross the divide?
Did they climb to high peaks?
Did they cradle the same lamb
That rests so soft and so sweet
In the palms, in the palms,
In the palms of your hands?
As you lay down and lay down
To the starry night sounds
Of sleep.
Of sleep.
My blog is story telling, often in verse, and some of which includes tales of both living with, and crushing, seronegative arthritis. All work is original.
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