What dreams may come….

All the world is a stage…

And at night the play goes on..

Last night I slept fairly badly. Friends needed support and put off quite a few tasks for hours. I watch the long sun rise before my head hits the pillow. Normally four hours of sleep means that I won’t remember my dreams. This night is different.

I drempt the wind had come up howling, bending trees as the drum beat never waned. And my tent, was flying, upside down as it tried to anchor itself to the underbelly of the trees. And I standing in the middle of all this wind and fury felt no fear and laughed.


About Isabella LeCour

She is nothing more than the collections of thoughts placed into the virtual worlds. She is a poet, a mother, a lover, many things to different people. But mostly, she is nothing but smoke and mirrors - some ethereal thing that blinks in an out of existence.
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