PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I found her, Sleeping on a silver platter

In a field of windmills, directing her dreams

Directing her mind

The skies fill with her, fill with her dreams

Her red hair, dances in the winds

Everything is hers, her balloonflight

Burning her shallow days, her shallow years

Speeding up behind her, directing her dreams

Turning their clockwork turns, oversized propellers

In her shallow field, sleeping on a silver platter

We’re turning yesteryears, turning them to the skies

Swimming in the salty seas

Hovering in purple shallow skies

Dancing with our shadows

Chasing them across the room, she’s so fast

Sleeping on her silver platter, my shadow