The nights being itself tonight <br />With the wind blowing against <br />The shutters that cover the holes <br />And there behind those I lay awake <br />Way past the time of sleep <br />Awake to the sweet sounds of nothing <br />Nothing at some great degree <br />(If that means a thing) <br />Yet I wander <br />My mind set sail on a dream <br />I'm in Russia <br />I'm in France <br /> <br />And right now it’s quiet <br /> <br />As a lay and travel the world <br />Mothers asleep in the next room <br />She even smiles at her rest <br />And brother with his eyes slightly open <br />On the couch in the den is doing his best <br />Even the mouse in the hole in the wall <br />From his full day of nibbles <br />And work lies in a ball <br />Rejuvenating for the next days tasks <br /> <br />And it's quiet <br /> <br />Steps and stumbles sound from the downstairs <br />Straight through the door <br />It’s the Majesty and his entire Royal <br />And screams at the top of his lungs <br />Echoes hear through out the halls <br />Takes her by the hair <br />A new day seems to have started <br />So I run away to far off lands <br />Like a place in Russia <br />Or the Beaches of France <br /> <br />And finally it's Quiet<br /><br />Jacob Rembrandt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/traveling-dreams-just-dreams/
