The Pauper's Dream
24 January, 2005
Author: Shadaan
One wintry, cold night,
As he lay down his head,
On a ragged little sack,
Which he considered as his bed.
His eyelids grew heavy,
And he slowly closed his eyes.
He slept peacefully on the street,
Under the dark, wide skies.
He saw a majestic throne,
Which was made of diamonds and gold,
And there,
He saw himself seated,
Looking handsome and bold!
He had a beautiful palace,
With servants to serve him day and night.
He had gardens full of colourful flowers,
An extremely wonderful sight!
The mountains surrounding his palace,
Were so mighty and high,
They seemed as if they were,
Touching the sky!
He was the king of that happy kingdom.
King of everything in it.
King of the hills, king of the lakes,
King of the rain, king of the snow flakes.
He was proud,
And so happy he seemed.
When he smiled,
His eyes brightly gleamed.
But then came the sun,
And on the pauper's face,
Fell its beam,
And when the pauper opened his eyes,
He knew, that alas, it was just a dream!
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Meridian (172.162.155.6) -- Monday, January 24 2005, 07:37 pm I like that book! And you've summarized it perfectly! The Pauper's wish and dream became reality, but somehow he wish he didn't want it so badly. This saying comes to mind, "Be careful, what you wish for". Nice crayola picture Shadaan! |
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