Mayhem Nights and Dreams.(Revised).

Dripping down from the darkened ceiling
Invisible hair of stalactites overhang the childs face
As she dreams of feral Gypsies,
Elves, seal skinned Silkies,
The hidden high wire artistes of the night
Dancing through the air above her head,
Or sliding down the ice cold stalactites
From one ephemeral world view to another
Without a by your leave,
Without an airline ticket,
Without a visa or a valid passport.

And while the wild child sleeps they fill her mind
With torrid dreams of fantastical lovers,
Disguised as urbane pirates;
Of dogs and cats and horses
Invited home to supper;
Of changelings hatched at twilight
When the Barn Owl swoops;
Of tantrums orchestrated to scare off pesky mother.

Well, that is her real world,
The world we share with her
When we ditch our daylight talk of mortgages,
Of debts, of risky deals,
Of stocks and shares and phantasmagoric money;
Of bale outs and witless promises.
Her night world of wild dreams is our true world
Where we masquerade with Puck among veiled shadows
In a fierce pursuit of anarchistic freedom
Under the feckless moon.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
May 5th. 2016.

Written after enjoying a performance of Midsummer Night`s Dream at The Globe Bankside. Also, in the mix of day to day life and the controlling undercurrent of our dream world, which would like to overturn all order with supernatural violence, anarchistic, not anarchic, is the appropriate word to use in this poem.