Along for the ride

 

My heart is a roadmap

of stories, woven from

shooting stars and

wistful dreams.

 

A canvas bag,

threaded from memories

and ideals, lays on the floor

beside my feet.

Inside I store

the contents of my head.

My notepad, and a set of

discarded scraps of faded yesterday's.

 

I lay dozing.

Slumped in the passenger seat.

of a car I don’t recognise,

watching through dreamy eyes

the stories formed in blustery

summer skies.

 

I’m just along for the ride.

 

Driver unknown to me.

I’m just watching the

over-excited countryside

showing me all of its stories

in a speed through

flipbook view of forever.

 

Outside blurs into my

dreams seamlessly,

and I drift away.

 

Life they say is a dream,

and I’m living mine in the halo

of sunlight that speaks to me.

 

As the world blurs along.

The driver speaks in a whisper,

a singsong voice saying

"Keep turning your pages,

you are on the right road.

This life is golden, and the

stories are there to behold."

 

Wherever forever lies

there will always be

bountiful sunrises

and beautiful skies.

 

The driver speaks one last time

in a tenors tone

“You've reached your

destination, that will be £10.”

I hand over a tenner note.

And I’m right where I began,

at home with my pen in my hand.