I dream of hills drawn in crayon, of watercolor skies.
I dream of forests colored in oils, deer sketched in magic marker.
I dream of a sun streaming down ink, and a whole world to paint.
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remember
light is not a dream
darkness does not exist
and the game of life can be won
when you decide never to be defeated
Indeed, my dream forests are painted in thick, dark green oils, as well. Great poem, John.
Comment by Karla — 21 Oct 2011 @ 3:46 pm