Last night I dreamt that I could sing
A link of memory:
When I was 8 I thought the most beautiful colour in the world was the midnight blue oil pastel out of the box we were sometimes allowed to use.
It was deep and dark
And when you smeared it across the page,
It went from almost black
To blueberry cordial.
When I was little I never thought I could sing.
Now I think maybe
If I were trained by a world class singing instructor, with a beard down to his feet, high in the Peruvian Hills for seven months
In other words it’s never going to happen
But when I dream I can sing,
Hanging out of a castle window
The sky is midnight blue
With pinpricks of light dimly showing the courtyard below
And my voice is as sweet as blueberry cordial.
One Poem Every Day