In the depth of slumber,

terracotta dreams flow silently into existence.

Aburst with a brilliance that burns slowly,

and without mercy, quietly and relentlessly.

Etching its presence deep within the recesses of the mind.

A smoldering reminder of the fine line

that exists between the conscience and sub-conscience.

Magnificent terracotta colors

seer their way through, blazing a fiery pathway

that leads deeper into this temporary place,

that only exists while asleep.

To awaken, risks disturbing

the unique tranquility of this colorful space.

The sweltering terracotta madness,

gathers one securely in its clutches.

An unsolicited hypnosis cloaked

in an undetectable disguise.

Terracotta dreams will overtake you,

the moment you close your eyes.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

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