Perhaps I had been watching too much jubilee coverage. A few
nights ago, I dreamed I was at a garden party in Queen Elizabeth’s back yard at
Buckingham Palace. Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie, who were still
children, had stumbled over a pile of poetry shards lying in the grass and were
stooping down to examine it with great interest and compassion as though it
were a wounded animal. Meanwhile, the rest of the party was riding away on horses, wearing red
coats and fox hunting clobber. The queen was nowhere in sight.
Sounds like something out of Alice in Wonderland, doesn’t
it? At least Her Royal British Majesty wasn’t shouting, “Off with her head!” Queen Elizabeth seems too good-tempered to ever say such a thing.
What vivid dreaming. I'm taken by the thought of poetry shards, which is a wonderful name for the lines here and there that catch our attention and get stuck in our heads.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Mise in being taken with the idea of poetry shards. Fabulous sleeping imagination.
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