I dreamed the other night of a time long ago,

When the air sang of hymns and the Herald of spring,

Enigma adventures and the facets of Eden

Glared broader and beckoned the villagers home,

The lanterns of poor and humble folk shined

Brighter than beacons on every stone tower,

And dawn followed bellbirds sighing queer and coy,

For the King and his might came dressed for a feast,

Chrysalis of green turned gaudy and bold in

The rising of sunlight revering deeply to all,

I peered through the mire the look of childhood joy,

These hills can speak a passage by sight and by sound,

The bristles in yearning for someone like me while

The golden streams poured of credence and bloom,

No serpentine man would ever betoken,

Such dappled things in a wayward dream,

But years have passed and I have seen

Such mercy in these streets of Seville,

I dream of the King in conscious state,

I rue the dawn when I must awake.