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Dreams
Chandeliers sputtered a flame
Sharp and slender like the footsteps
Moaning with the floorboard's slumber
This light held steadily its constant
Epicenter of proud undulations
Rocking an inebriated heart to sleep
Whilst the soul remained tethered
To contending against fear
With a hathful of daunted sneers
And flowers prancing for the winds
Of vicissitude's circles - eternal was
The quaint photographs left
Like all the phantoms that stroked
The brush from these palettes
Had it all been a long dream?
poem
by
Norman Santos
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