I saw a pile of sand pouring onto the pavement
It looked like a lion, lounging
I drove through the night watching a triangle of stars
And thought it was an alien craft
I saw the crescent moon, luminous, ethereal
Like a slice of hope, mother of pearl, a beacon
In the midnight sky
I stare at hedges and I’m somewhere else
Faces of creatures and people live there
What do they see when they look at me?
And where do they go at night?
While I am sleeping
Do they come alive?
Or walk like the trees in the forest
The sun dances in a pool of light
I life my eyes and squint
Sprites fly in the sky
It’s the stuff we’re made of
Those silvery worms of life
Dancing together but never colliding
But wait
I thought I saw that lion move
And come to life
Imagine if it did?
Liz Doran, Author 
How lovely. I see those figures and faces in trees and hedgerows. And the heavens ate alive with magical scenes.
You too, Julia. I’m so glad I’m not the only one. Those faces are so real.
I absolutely love this poem. What a tremendous imagination you have. Writer! Writer! Writer! 🙂
Takes one to know one, Angelika. Thank you, friend.
I read slice of bacon, instead of beacon. Lol.
Lovely fanciful poem, B. Puts me in mind of Kipling almost.
Lots of love, Angela xx
The bacon would be soft and soggy lying outdoors. Funny!