Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Teacher's Dream

Hidden in the mind gone dim, unawares,
Is a present for a pupil of mine.
But hiding here I swim within the cares
Of worry, of doubt, and I smell the pine
Trees that do dot the landscape about my
Troubled head of darkness and gloomy being.
My glasses skewed have become so awry,
But as I walk through the valley I sing!
A song from long ago in my childhood,
Where I have often gone to gain reprieve
From the worldly woes; If only I could
Wake from my colorful dreams and believe
In true won gifts, touch, smell, sound, sight, and taste.
For dreams are of truth but a foretaste.

                                              The Teacher's Dream, (c) Luke Bennette, April 2012

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