dreaming

there's a colorful laddy,
lying flat on the floor
dressed like a dancer
or perhaps like a king
of a carnival wintering
on a dim irish bay

he's forgotten to close
his emerald eyes
for he's slipped into dreaming
seems caught by the sun
in a warm pool of white
captured by moonlight
gone hidden by day
here in my bedroom
lying flat on the floor

there are bees in the roses
that have climbed to my door
they seem anxious to find him
to finish a tale
full of honey and longing
for a colorful boy
should i tell them he's sleeping
adrift far away
should i ask them to supper
so i can finish the tale
when the laddy comes waking
lying flat on the floor