I dreamed, Will.
I dreamed of London and its crowds,
its noise and even its city stink
I dreamed of hearing the Danish prince
and the Scot usurper and St. Crispin’s Day
and the king’s daughters,
and seeing them, Will, in garish torchlight.
I dreamed I saw the Queen, Will,
nodding to the crowd as she walked
by the white hall palace, and I chanced
a smile, Will, and she returned it.
I dreamed I saw the river, Will, and rode
a barge close by the Globe.
And nobles in the finery and common folk
in plain dress, both clean and dirty, and I dodged
the bedpan emptied from above,
and I watched the crowd watch a hanging
or two. Or three. They brought refreshments
And the food, Will, the food in the taverns,
and the drinking with Marlowe and the Earl,
and the laughter and the arguments and seeing
them all, even you, scratch quills on parchment.
I don’t want to die too soon, Will.
I want to dream again.
I want to dream, Will.
Tweetspeak Poetry has a prompt about William Shakespeare and dreams. Take a look and write your own dream poem.