You may say i’m a dreamer

To own a certain building
To own a building, a big studio and call it JOS house.
When this cloud of hustling has passed
and the shivers from fear has dried.
I will hold on to the cloak of what’s buried
so long chance is like a silver plate
served to me with a treasured island.
There will be no more ghosts
not of beggars eating as friends
not of souls that have bore holes.
So there will be freedom
of stars tied to their tiredness
talents of soups that make food.
Once these sheets make this bed
we will call it a native name,
a home that offices our bones
it will be bedtime story for youths
a dream well met from the page
there will be laughter and prayers
a slice of God’s bread written.
This is the dream for dreamers
and a hope in a candle light

Ruddapoet