Dreamer of Words

My name is Elena. I write poems in my head and some of them make it onto paper. Creation heals my soul; I live for it and because of it. I write and draw and play music and lose myself in my imagination. I am an aspiring art therapist, giving it all I’ve got to make it. I have a whole other world in my head and here, I will share it with you. I long to meet you. Please come and share your imagination with me.

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Note: I always check out peoples blogs but I don't always follow back. I unfollow blogs that post graphic pictures of self-harm, please don't take this personally.

Fox of Salter

I dreamt he was alive
And well. With
Still a hint of a
Hunter’s smile
In shiny eyes.
He laughed and
Joked, but
Never recognised me.
Not the little girl
Who held his hand
While he lay dying.
The moors pressed
Against the windows
And white linen
Hurt my eyes.
But the last thing
I remember is
The bugle call
They played
At his funeral,
“The fox has got away.”