As I was going to St Kitts


In my dream I was skiing through the mountains,
I’m free in my dream.
As I was going to St Kitts.

In the wilderness breaking where the mountains are shaking fresh snow from the peaks and the wolves were a crooning hoping soon there’d be food in,
hoping I’d be the meal on their table tonight,
came a light rolling softly through the valley below me and the pass opened through,to a view I would die for.

A lonely chateau stood proudly up on the plateau before me and in the windows I could see, a family at play,where the joy overwhelmed me,took the feet from beneath me and the skis became unnecessary as I floated through air.

Where, in the rules of a dream does it say that I have to return to the light of the day?I wanted so badly to stay,
but the alarm bell from hell set an avalanche flowing and in the flowing of snow across the mountains I go, back
to bed.

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