In the dreamy Other Place,

It’s always morning cool,

And shadowy upon thy face,

And birds fly low.

They sing clever melodies

And dive and land and eat

Upon the ground so close

That one could reach and touch them.

My feet are light and I could fly to you.

In this shade, it’s always spring.

The grass is drunken green,

And lilacs bloom anew again each day.

Two birds flutter in the untroubled hedge

The branches and the leaves move

With the breeze, and the birds at play.

My mind flies away, to the Other Place,

Where nothing exists but love and peace

And bliss and muted shades of May.

I’ll be back to live again right here,

Where fear is not even a memory.

Soothed by the trills of satisfied songbirds,

I will dance and put my face

Into the fresh lilacs filled with dew,

And wander the lolling, strangely, Irish hills 

Of this Other Place.

-jenn