I Write Poetry

Emerald Fields

In vivid dreams of yesterday
In fields of Grecian blue,
On emerald waves of dancing grass
Before your birth you anew.

Your ancient home revealed at night,
A place where you can fly.
A place where pain is never known.
Where people never cry.

A summer rain that falls tonight,
In a meadow lit by gloaming moon.
You laugh and run, it streaks your face.
It all ends far to soon.

On rainy nights of streetlights dimmed,
From your window you shall peer.
You cannot see those emerald fields,
But I hope you know they're near.

Patrick