Wednesday, November 14, 2007

WAKING by Katharine Pyle

I dreamed I lay in a little gray boat;
The sail above was gray;
Out, out to sea from dreamland shore
I was drifting and drifting away.

The dreamland shore was growing dim,
Though I strained my eyes to see;
And the dream-child, too, was fading away
Who had played all night with me.

The dream-child waved a shadowy hand,
And wept to see me go.
"Farewell, farewell, ," I heard a cry,
"You are going to wake, I know."

And then I saw the shore no more-
Thee were only the wind and me,
And the little gray boat, and the lonely sky,
And the soundless dreamland sea.

My boat ran up on a smooth white beach,
And faded away like smoke,
And the beach was my own little nursery bed,
And I opened my eyes and woke.

So often now when I'm going to sleep,
I wish I could find once more,
The place where the little gray boat is moored
And the dream-child plays on the shore.

But in dreamland none can choose their way,
Or find their friends again;
And the little dream-child by the dreamland sea
Will wait for me in vain.