The dust that falls from dreams
Is scarce to say the least
Floating across the ancient sea
Not hiding, but yet not seen
Sparkling hues of gold
Reflecting the world you know
The dust will dance all night
Followed by the pale gray light
To see its beauty, from a far
Like watching a shooting star
A dream, this must be
Reality it can not be
R.K.H
6/22
Blank Thoughts 