Let it Grow

I found a pot on my windowsill
A tiny flower growing
Who placed it there is still unknown
I watch it grow, lost in dreaming
A pure white land, filled with voices screaming
I step on in, hope to help
Swallowed by cotton wool
I recognise the voice calling
It’s time to wake from your world of dreaming
Turn back before you are lost
The flower scent, a warning meant
Tell him now, you’re not the kind of girl
You hold for one night only…

© anita dawes 2020